


Crossing Oceans

by jaystrifes, kuchi



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M, Multi, Pining, Pre-Poly, Sailing, Sharing a Bed, Stargazing, glacier spirits festival, ice dodging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23758036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaystrifes/pseuds/jaystrifes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuchi/pseuds/kuchi
Summary: After moving in together, Katara and Aang have their first big fight. Each turns to Zuko for counsel as they try to decide what they want from their future.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 257
Collections: Heartlines Expanded Universe





	1. Chapter 1

Katara enjoys few things more than the warmth of the hearth and her family's company, the deliciously salty scent of sea prunes wafting through their communal igloo.

Kanna and Pakku sit close together across the fire from her, murmuring with their smiling faces tucked down. They don't even pretend to pay attention to Hakoda's commentary on the changing social habits in the capital, while Katara does her best to listen to both conversations. As interested as she is in what her father has to report, Gran Gran's bliss is hard to overlook.

In her daydreams, she pictures her future with Aang that way. Many, many years from now, the two of them old and grey and happy, children and grandchildren of their own gathered around for a hot meal in their home.

Of course, it might be a little easier to imagine if Aang was here.

He's been free of Avatar duties lately, for the most part—with the political groundwork for the United Republic of Nations already laid, there won't be a need for his or Zuko's continuous presence there until the physical construction of Republic City has gotten further along. There have been no huge spiritual disturbances yet this year, and no major quarrels between nations.

The world is moving fast towards the future, but it's quieter than Katara can ever remember it being in her lifetime. That makes Aang's recent behaviour all the more strange to her.

When Hakoda finally reaches a stopping point (something about another new restaurant serving a fusion of Northern and Southern cuisine), Pakku and Kanna excuse themselves for their evening walk around the village.

The stew pot is nearly empty. There wouldn't be much left for Aang, if she hadn't already set a bowl aside. She doesn't know why she bothered. It'll be cold by the time he shows up, and besides, Aang doesn't like sea prunes anyways. He always eats them with that too-big forced grin, his cheeks full as he tries to swallow them without chewing. The habit is equal parts endearing and frustrating.

Katara gets up to clean the bowls, and Hakoda follows to help dry them. She can feel him watching her while they work, trying to guess at her mood.

"You've been quiet," he says. "It isn't about Sokka, is it?"

She unhooks the stew pot from over the fire and lets it cool on the ground, watching the steam rise on contact. "No. I know he's been busy with everything in Harbor City. You probably need to go back soon too, right?"

"I can stay a little longer. Didn't you say Aang was going with him today?"

An even bigger cloud of warm vapour plumes up from the pot when Katara fills it to soak. She hopes the iron won't warp just because she's being hastier with it than she usually would. She needs _something_ to keep her hands busy, and right now, sloshing around the soapy water with her bending is as good a distraction as any.

"Yes. He was supposed to be back hours ago, though."

"Ah. Well, sometimes people forget."

"I know. He volunteered to help with that ice slide project at Pakku's academy, for the kids." Even as she says it, she starts to regret her bitterness.

On the other hand, this is the third time Aang has missed family dinner in a week. Katara sighs and gives up on her aggressive washing. Hakoda rests a hand on her shoulder.

"He's probably on his way by –"

A heavy thump shakes the ground, the unmistakable sound of Appa landing. Seconds later, a smaller thump, the unmistakable sound of Aang forgetting his recent growth spurt and hitting his head on the igloo entrance.

As he comes into view, the staff of his glider scrapes the tunnel walls and wedges between the blocks. Taking pity on him, Katara stretches her hand and softens the snow enough to free the glider. Aang stumbles with his own momentum. Without a second thought, she moves to catch him, but he rights himself first with a spin and a gust of air. He props his staff against the wall, dusting the snow off his clothes. "Happens every time, huh?"

Katara lets her empty arms fall to the sides, then changes her mind and crosses them. Aang rubs the back of his head sheepishly as he meets her eyes. She can't act mad at him for long. Even if she is a little upset, she _is_ happy to see him.

"I'm glad you're back," she says, though it trips awkwardly on her tongue.

Aang seems just as anxious to smooth over the uneasy mood. He steps in to slide an arm around her waist and tip her back for a slightly too-enthusiastic kiss. "Me too. Sorry for being late." His breath is warm against her lips. She almost forgets the whole point of the apology when his voice drops an octave lower. "Promise I'll make it up to you."

Abruptly, Katara remembers they aren't alone and tries to lean away so their hips aren't quite touching anymore, giving him a flustered smile.

"Was dinner okay?" Aang asks, a crease of confusion between his brows. "And your dad?"

Hakoda coughs. "Right here."

Aang nearly drops her. He doesn't, but Katara latches onto his shoulders just in case, then elects to stand on her own feet and put a little space between them. "Everything was fine. We waited for you, but I didn't want to keep Pakku and Gran-Gran too long."

"It's okay, I waved to them when I landed. I see them around all the time, anyways, since we all sort of live here." Aang shuffles over to warm his hands by the fire, nodding to Hakoda but avoiding eye contact. He clears his throat awkwardly as he sits down. "I thought you were planning to spend the night in the city, sir?"

"I was, but now I'm reconsidering."

" _Dad_ ," Katara says. "Can you give us a moment, please? To talk, not to – we just need to talk, I promise."

Her father wears a stern frown, but he doesn't argue. "Very well. I think it's time I go meet Sokka, anyhow."

"He was on his way to the town hall, last I saw him," Aang offers meekly.

Once Hakoda is gone, they're left to regard each other without words for a long moment. In the two months since Katara first invited Aang into her household, something has grown between them that was never there before. It's strange, occupying the same space for so much of every day, when that space isn't theirs alone. Although they're well used to making adult decisions, she's acutely aware that they don't have the freedom that most couples their age outside the tribe do. She thinks of how Suki had gracefully declined to come stay with Sokka the last few weeks of summer, preferring to go with him on an ice-dodging trip in the North.

Katara thought living with Aang would only strengthen their relationship, but it feels like it's doing the opposite.

"So," she says, taking a seat next to him, by the fire. "How did the project at the school go?"

"Great! No thanks to me, really. I think they just wanted me there because it made them feel more important. Mostly, I entertained the kids who showed up to watch the Northern waterbenders work, kept them out of the way. Only took them a couple hours."

Katara leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping both her arms around one of his. "That's nice. But then, why didn't you come home sooner?"

"Well, the kids wanted to go for a ride on Appa around lunchtime, and then they wanted to go penguin sledding, because apparently the new migrants from the North have never gone penguin sledding before? It turns out they don't even have otter penguins up there!"

"Uh-huh."

"And then they said the Southern kids needed to try some food from the North, so I took them to that new fusion restaurant, and then I realized I forgot to let the parents know where I was taking their children, and –"

Katara withdraws and looks at him head-on. "Okay, let me make sure I understand. You missed family dinner because you decided to supervise an impromptu all-day field trip?"

"I…yes?" Aang tries, in a tone that says he knows it's the wrong answer. "I promise I didn't mean to be so late—I know I should be more responsible, I just lost track of time in all the excitement, with the kids and… " He sighs and turns his palm up to twine his fingers with hers loosely.

Sometimes she wonders if Aang has really grown up all that much since she first met him. Sure, he towers a head above her now, his shoulders have broadened out, his face is taking on a new, longer shape. Beneath all that, though, he's still the boy who woke up from a hundred-year slumber and immediately asked her to go sledding with him. It's one of his best qualities, the way he spread joy, even in the middle of an endless war.

"You don't have to feel bad for having fun, Aang." Katara squeezes his hand. "It'll make you a good father someday."

She hears his slight breath of surprise and feels her own cheeks warm when she registers what she said. His face has turned mildly pink.

It's not as if they haven't talked about having children of their own before – in a purely hypothetical sense, of course. Neither of them are anywhere near ready yet.

Still, she can already picture Aang with a toddler on his shoulders, careening them around like a glider complete with whooshing noises, waiting for some sign that the baby might be a bender.

The grey of his eyes is soft-shining silver beneath the fire's golden tint, even as it smoulders lower in the pit. He watches her like he's thinking about the same thing.

"Someday," he says. A hand comes up to caress Katara's cheek and brush the hair loop out of the way before he kisses her, slow and easy.

She sighs as his hand slips to the small of her back and draws her closer, relaxes into it without complaint until _slow_ doesn't feel quite right. She pushes herself up on her knees on the seat to gain just a smidge of height over him. Straddling his legs, she drapes her arms behind his neck and smiles down.

Aang wets his lips. "Thought you told your dad we were just going to talk?"

"Please don't mention my dad while we're doing more than talking."

Aang's half-laugh trapped between them when she kisses him again makes for an excellent distraction. Katara loves his irrepressible smile almost as much as she loves the moment when it melts away beneath her lips. She's considering forgetting all about their small quarrel and going to bed when she hears the scuffle of footsteps through the tunnel.

Katara springs away from Aang just as Kanna and Pakku duck through the entrance. She trips, but recovers quickly, hopefully before anything can become too obvious to her grandparents.

They offer Aang their greetings, catching up on the day, before they retire for the night. In the upper level of the igloo, there are four thick pallet beds laid out: one for the elders in the front, one for Hakoda, one for Sokka, and the one Aang and Katara share in the back. They're separated by curtains for privacy, but it isn't always enough.

Katara and Aang exhale in synchronized relief. She has no illusions about recapturing the mood, so she sets about finishing the cleaning up from dinner.

"Do you ever think about moving out of here?" Aang blurts, making her nearly drop the stew pot.

"You mean, building our own igloo?"

"I was thinking more like, _moving_ moving. Away from the South Pole."

"Away from the South Pole?" Katara repeats with a shrill note of incredulity. She glances towards the sleeping area and lowers her voice to a hiss. "What are you talking about?"

Aang rubs his forehead and dodges her eyes. "Being here I just feel…trapped. Don't you?"

"No, never!" A stone of dread settles in the pit of her stomach. "I make you feel trapped?"

"No, you're perfect, we're – we're perfect!"

"Are you sure? Because you never seemed to have a problem when you lived on your own, but ever since you moved in with me you've been acting weird."

"That isn't it, Katara," Aang says earnestly, standing and catching both her hands in his. "It's just…your family, you know?"

Katara yanks her hands free and clenches them at her sides. "My family? How is that any different?"

"I just mean, it's like any time I look at you for more than five seconds, your dad or Pakku or Sokka is breathing down my neck. I know Sokka's usually joking, or maybe not, I don't –" He cuts himself off and shakes his head, aggravated. "The point is that I love them all, but I only want to live with _you_."

"Even if I wanted to, you think I could just _leave_ the South Pole? You know how close our community is here."

Aang winces. "We could always visit from time to time?"

"Do you even hear yourself? You're asking me to desert my home, my people!"

"Katara –"

Shaking her head, Katara whips away from him to dump the stew pot outside. Aang chases after, trying to help, but she's not going to let him. She totes the empty pot back inside one-handed. When he finally manages to duck back through the entrance, she's standing by the dying fire, stamping out the last coals in the pit.

"Okay." She lets her breath out and tries to calm herself enough to see his perspective. "So what if we did move? Obviously we couldn't live at an air temple."

Aang's jaw sets. "Why couldn't we?"

Her patience evaporates just as soon as she regathers it. "We'd be hermits, Aang! The Air Acolytes are just starting the restoration projects and their numbers are sparse, from what you've told me. Imagine raising our children there, with nobody their age to play with."

Aang jerks back, his brows drawing together. Katara immediately wishes she could take back that comment, but her mind is too caught up in the whirlwind of everything else.

"Well I'm sorry the Fire Nation wiped out my people a hundred years ago, that must be terribly inconvenient for your plan to start a mothers' club!" Aang snaps. "And what would be so bad about having children there, anyways? I'm the _last_ airbender. Why shouldn't our kids grow up immersed in my culture?"

"Why should the Air Nomads be the only thing that matters to them? Don't they have a right to my heritage, too?"

"Yes! They do, they have a right to both, but there are going to be plenty of babies born here. I might only have four or five."

"Whoa, slow down, _four or five_?" Katara gawks at him. "Since when is that the number of children we want? I'm starting to think it'll be more like none!"

Aang looks at her like he's been slapped. "What?"

"I mean – I don't know what I mean. All I know is we need to seriously rethink our plans if we can't see eye to eye about this."

He rubs a hand over his smooth head, a nervous habit he's developed over time. "Katara, I still want to be with you, but I…"

Her stomach twists itself in an unhappy knot as the silence stretches. She knows she's right, needs to make him see sense, but she didn't intend to turn it into an ultimatum.

"Aang –"

"I think I have to go."

The anger coursing in Katara's blood freezes over, just like that. Part of her wants to stop him, but her mouth races ahead of her mind. "Okay, then go."

Aang takes a step towards the exit, and hesitates. "If you want me to stay, I will."

She can't back down now. "Don't let me keep you here. It's your choice."

He looks at her one last time, a gleam of desperation in his eyes, like he's trying to memorize something of her to take with him. And then he's gone.

Katara forces herself not to pursue him, even as she feels a piece of her own heart is breaking off and drifting out into the snow on the bright orange end of his cloak. By the time her self-control gives out and she peers outside the tunnel, she barely catches sight of Appa's furry tail disappearing up into the half-grey dusk.

She can't tell if her eyes sting from the cold or from the tears prickling at them.

*

High above the sea, Aang flies, the cold biting at his skin and freezing his tears almost before they slip from his eyes. He doesn't think he's ever been so frustrated before in his life, not with Katara.

Katara soothes, Katara calms, Katara grounds him. Katara has never opened this bottomless void of dread in him before.

Appa knows the way, so Aang buries his face in the bison's fur and lets himself cry, deep and aching, shoulders heaving. He can't stand the thought of losing Katara; he can't stand the thought that he already has.

It's like being trapped in the iceberg again, the cold plunge into the sea and the claustrophobic darkness as the water encased him and Appa and hardened around them. Aang doesn't remember the hundred years in there, but sometimes he has nightmares where he sees himself, smaller, stuck behind the eerie white-blue glow of the ice. Try as he might, he can never break through to free the other version of him, not until Katara shows up.

The world is completely upside down, and it's his fault. If he had just kept his mouth shut (even though he was _right_ , why couldn't she see that?) he would still be there with her, safe and warm, instead of flying into a gathering storm.

The clouds are huge all around him, not as dark as they were on the night he fled the temple, but enough to make the familiarity of the situation uncanny. Their telltale bruised grey is a sure sign of heavy snow, at the very least. The sting of the wind whipping past his ears, the howl of it all around, gives him a bad feeling. He can tell Appa is nervous, too.

Even with airbending, it's hard to stay on course. The wind buffets them to and fro, and there's no way out of the cloud bank except forwards. Cold doesn't get to him easily, but he can't feel his hands after a while, and he can't put his rattled thoughts together enough to consider firebending for warmth.

Aang doesn't know how long they've been in the sky when Appa finally bursts through the outer edge of the storm, thick mist trailing behind him. There are the distant silhouettes of the Southern Air Temple's spires. He pats Appa's head and talks to him encouragingly, just a little farther, buddy.

They make a slow, careful descent, and curl up against the nearest mountainside, too exhausted to find better accommodations. Aang nestles into Appa's fur, clinging to him. He thinks the nightmare will be waiting for him when he falls asleep, and sure enough, it is.

He faces his younger mirror, the empty glowing eyes inside the ice, and doesn't try to waterbend the iceberg apart this time. He just waits and tries not to look at it; he hates seeing how creepy he looks in the Avatar State. There isn't much to see anywhere else he looks, though. Just the blinding whiteness of snow, the still blackness of the sea.

Normally Katara would be here by now, but there's no sign of her. When Aang peers into the iceberg again, the boy is gone, too.

*

A fierce blizzard blows in overnight. Katara spends the morning fretting over her dad and Sokka, though Gran Gran assures her they were wise enough not to leave the city in this weather. She tries not to be paralyzed by the thought of Aang crashing off course and freezing to death in the snow or the ocean. He's probably fine, too.

She tries to stay busy with the routine of tea, breakfast, cleaning. She's just washed the bowls and catches herself starting to wash them again when Pakku speaks up.

"I haven't seen Aang yet today. Sleeping in?"

Katara takes a deep breath. She wonders if Pakku heard the argument last night, if this is just his way of approaching the subject gently. "He left. We're…spending some time apart."

Kanna comes to place a hand on Katara's shoulder and impart some advice from her own life, something about leaving Pakku and finding him again after all those years. Katara nods along, but everything sounds distant in her ears with the effort of not crying.

The next task she sets for herself is making a round between huts and igloos to check that every family is stocked up on supplies. When that's taken care of and she regains enough feeling in her hands, she pours herself into knitting. It's all she can do to keep her mind from spinning in circles, especially on such a quiet and uneventful day.

After the last meal, with her grandparents already in bed, she sits down at the small writing desk. Momo lands next to her, narrowly missing the inkwell, and chitters, his green eyes round and uncertain. Her heart aches.

"What if I made a mistake, letting him go?" she asks, wearily scritching her knuckles under his chin. His purr comes out small and dejected. "Oh, Momo. Don't worry, okay? He has to come back, at least for your sake."

It doesn't quite feel real, that Aang isn't here. Katara keeps looking over her shoulder, expecting to find him warming himself by the low-burning fire. A few of her tears fall to become splotches on the blank parchment before she can wipe them away. The weight of the argument settles oppressively on her shoulders.

She feels awful for being so harsh, but what she said was right. It just wouldn't be realistic for them to live somewhere as remote as an air temple, not when they're both called to such important roles in the world. For her part, she has a duty to the South and to her village, as a leader, teacher, healer. Not everyone is ready to leave behind their way of life and move to the city just yet.

Maybe time will make him see the sense in that. She'll stay rooted here where she belongs, where she's needed.

And until then, Katara can think of one person in the world who knows Aang as well as she does. The ache of loneliness eases at the thought of his regular correspondence, and she knows she can expect a meaningful response in a few weeks' time.

It's easy to pour her feelings into the page. Before long, she's rolling up the letter to be sent by messenger hawk when the storm blows over.

For now, she'll wait and take things day by day. Momo settles on her bed while she unties her hair for the night and blows out the candle. His silly little scurry down the sleeping bag tickles enough to make her smile. He doesn't have the body heat to make up for the missing person between them, but he's a comforting presence nonetheless.

Katara sighs deeply and tries to quiet her mind, but it's hard when the only other sound is the howl of the wind, and the pillow still bears fading traces of Aang, the scent of fresh air after a snowfall. She thinks of his sunshine smile that made the igloo seem so much warmer, even in the dead of polar night.

For the first time, she wonders if her home will ever feel that way again.

*

Well into the next day, Aang yawns himself awake in the rays of the blinding midday sun. He sits for a moment, soaking in some much-needed sunlight. The weather isn't quite warm, but Aang doesn't mind the touch of the familiar, buffeting winds.

It couldn't be worse than polar night, that's for sure. His good mood dissipates when he remembers the argument, and the lost look in Katara's eyes, beneath the strength and the cold. But he's trying not to dwell on all that, right? He's here for some nice, quiet time alone, just him and Appa and –

"Welcome, Avatar Aang!"

The Air Acolytes. The group at this temple is so small, Aang had almost forgotten about them. He leans over to see Chimo, a boy a few years his junior, standing on Appa's paw to look up at Aang, that is until Appa shakes him off with a disgruntled moo. The rest of the acolytes are all stretched out on their backs on the stone walkway.

"Uh," Aang says.

"Oh! We thought we would follow your example in this new meditation technique you've shown us, the noonday nap," Chimo explains. "I, um, don't think I did it right. Probably because I had a full night's rest, haha!"

"What? That's not what meditation – ugh," Aang sighs and reminds himself to have patience. "Okay. That was just a regular nap, you didn't need to drop everything and copy me."

"Oh."

"But, it's nice to see you, and, we'll sit down and catch up on everyone's progress after I find something to eat. Just go about your normal –"

Chimo shakes another acolyte awake and sends her running to bring Aang a bowl of fruit, before Aang can stop her. The others stir and begin to cluster around him, eager to speak with him.

"Avatar Aang, you don't usually show up unannounced," says one girl, Jia. "This is such a nice surprise!"

A muscle in Aang's cheek twitches. This is his _home_. Why should he need to announce himself every time he visits? He swallows back the urge to snap at her and nods as graciously as he can, flipping his glider open.

"Like I said, all of you, we'll talk soon. Right now I need some time to myself. Can you just make sure Appa gets fed, please?"

With a chorus of affirmation behind him, he propels himself into the air and lets the wind carry him away. In the surrounding mountains, he finds a quiet outcrop and sits to meditate for real.

Even then, Aang has difficulty calming his mind. He can let go of his frustration with the acolytes, especially when he can see them, tiny figures milling around the temple's structures, some chatting happily and working hard grinding stone and taking measurements, others young enough to be chasing each other, gleefully weaving around the construction. But the argument remains looming over his shoulder.

With the clarity of a new day, he can see that he messed up by leaving. It's just – the way Katara had bit back, acting like the mere idea of living at an air temple was unfathomable, had cut him deeply.

In the back of his mind, he's always assumed he would end up back at an air temple to settle down someday. It's only right. How much claim could he have to his nation if he didn't even live there? If the acolytes live there, but he doesn't himself?

Frustrated, he jumps up to his feet. Meditation is not working. By now, the younger ones have tired themselves out, sitting on the ledge of a fountain with their legs swinging, tiny hands blurring as they play some kind of rapid clapping game. He thinks about how he used to do that as a kid, not-so-patiently waiting for Monk Gyatso to come out of a meeting. Most days, he'd make it five minutes before one of his friends lured him away with a game of marbles, or air-enhanced parachuting.

He thinks about what Katara had said, about there being no families in the temples. It's been a long time since he's thought so hard about it, about his childhood and the air nomads. He sits down again, heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. It's unfair. It's _so_ unfair that no matter how deeply he wants it – how gnawing, how aching – he'll never be able to raise a child with all the things that he had as a kid. It's so unfair that they'll never know what it's like to grow up amongst airbenders, never experience that freedom and safety and unconditional love.

He wipes at his eyes, bitterly. He doesn't want to be ungrateful. If there's anything in the world that comes close to the boundless love of the air nomads, it's his friends. It's Sokka and Zuko and Toph. It's Appa's booming purrs when Aang pets him awake each morning, it's a sunny afternoon with Iroh, his kind eyes so much like Gyatso's crinkling over a cup in the teashop. It's the welcoming hearth of a communal igloo late at night, Hakoda and Kanna and even Pakku huddled around its warmth, sharing snacks and stories.

It's Katara, always there in every instance, smiling, laughing, listening, ranting.

The fact of the matter, looming in the vanishing evening light, is that she's right in a way. If he puts away his wishful thinking and really considers it, in realities and not ideas, the logistics make the idea unravel easily. How could they live somewhere with only a handful of other folks? How could they live somewhere with none of Katara's community, nowhere for her to do her teaching and healing work? And what if – his chest caves at the thought – what if he doesn't have any kids that end up airbenders? He'd never even entertained the idea before, but it's another awful stab to his chest, now that the unthinkable has already happened.

All in all, it's a selfish notion.

Regardless, Katara didn't have to be so callous about it, or about the idea of them living outside the South Pole. Was it too much to ask to not be surrounded by her family all day? Her dismissal had made him angry at first, and now that's dissipated, it just makes him hurt.

The burgeoning realisation that they've had just had their first proper, important fight makes matters so much worse. And on top of that, he just – ran away. He kicks up a gust of air in frustration, watching a trail of dust fly off the outcrop and disperse into the grey air.

This is unprecedented territory.

He trudges down the mountain, glider at his back. He's going to get some food in his stomach, say his farewell to the acolytes, and find Appa. The Northern Air Temple will be his next stop. It's far enough away that he'll have plenty of time to think, far up in the sky, away from all his worries and distractions.

But first, pen and parchment. There's one person in his life who's an expert when it comes to _unprecedented territory_ , and the thought of seeing his face is already lifting some of the weight in Aang's chest.

*

_Dear Zuko,_

_Aang left last night. You might catch word of it from the tabloids soon, so I thought I should tell you it isn't some scandalous rumour this time. It's true._

_Please don't try to hunt him down. I think he needs some time to himself, and maybe_ _when_ _if he comes back, we can work things out. I don't really know what else to say, or even do. I guess I'm writing to you because you're the only one I can think of who knows Aang as well as I do. Maybe you'll have some idea about what's going on with him._

_My dad and Sokka are still stuck in Harbor City, as of the time I'm writing this, but they should be back soon. I'm not looking forward to breaking the news to them. I know I have my family on my side, no matter what, I'm just worried they'll overreact. (And by they I mean Sokka, mostly.)_

_It's funny, even though it's so quiet here now, I'm exhausted. I guess heartbreak really takes the energy out of you. Don't worry about me too much, though. I'll adjust. Hope all is well in the Fire Nation._

_Katara_

_Dear Zuko,_

_I'm writing to you from the Southern Air Temple – please check the list of supplies the acolytes are requesting and send a ship at your earliest convenience._

_I've gotten pretty good at sounding all important and professional, huh? Those United Republic meetings with you and the Earth King must have paid off._

_By the time you get this you'll probably have heard about me and Katara already. I guess we're taking a bit of a break right now. At least, I hope that's all it is. Maybe I did the wrong thing, leaving her alone. I'm not sure how to fix it, but I'm hoping some time in the air will help clear my head._

_Appa and I are going to visit the other temples, and then maybe we'll stop by the palace to see you. You've always been my best adviser, and I could really use some advice right now._

_Aang_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara receives a well-timed visit from Zuko as the solstice festival approaches.

Almost two weeks after Aang’s departure, a cry goes up in the village of a Fire Nation ship sighted off the coast. Katara stumbles from her igloo in confusion, half-caught in a dream of her childhood years when such a warning foretold of destruction. Judging by the other waterbenders in ready stances, the Northerner mothers bearing walrus yak-tusk spears, the rest of her people are prepared for the same thing. 

Slowly, she blinks herself awake. If there are Northerners here, that means it isn’t wartime. Fire Nation ships now come bearing friends, not foes. The others seem to recognize that at the same time Katara does, venturing out as the ship drops anchor near the icy coast. It’s unusually off-schedule and off-course if it’s a trade ship headed for Harbor City, but maybe they need help.

Then the prow lowers to reveal the Fire Lord himself. He cuts an imposing silhouette in the low light of the waning moon, oddly mistakable for his father, but Katara would know him anywhere.

Her full-body hug knocks him a step back, and belatedly he opens his arms to her.

“Zuko! Oh, it’s so good to see you! But what are you doing here?” Beaming at him, Katara rubs the sleep from her eyes. The last time she had the chance to see him in person was at the semiannual meeting between their nations’ councils, almost five months ago. “I was expecting a letter by today, not a royal visit.”

A small flame glows to life in Zuko’s palm, casting warm yellow light against his face as Katara pulls back. “Well, I happened to be passing through, and…”

Katara gives him a look. “Passing through the South Pole?”

“Alright, you got me.” He glances away and clears his throat. “But as far as anyone else is concerned, this is for official business.”

“Of course,” Katara says, though she can’t contain her smile. “Aang will be so excited to see you, he’ll…” 

Too late, she realizes her mistake, catching Zuko’s grimace. “I mean, you’re here, and that’s all that matters, right? You must be tired.”

He nods and looks back towards the ramp to the woman who had followed him down. Zuko introduces her as Captain Iyori. She stands at attention and shifts uneasily.

“Will your Lordship spend the night on board or make camp here?”

Katara laughs lightly. “There’s no making camp at the South Pole, it’s way too cold for that. I’ll find space to build you a spare igloo—somewhere.” She scans for a free plot of ice between the crowd of homes. “We’ve seen a lot of growth since the end of the war, as you can tell.”

“That’s good news,” Iyori says, but her frown doesn’t ease. “Are there adequate provisions for the Fire Lord’s comfort? We must know before we set sail again.”

“In the middle of the night?” Katara asks.

“Well, it doesn’t make much difference around these parts. We can rest when we arrive at the Southern Air Temple.”

“Everything is fine here, captain,” Zuko says. “I don’t want to delay you any longer. We’ll figure something out. I can sleep…”

“With me,” Katara blurts. 

A flush creeps up the back of Zuko’s neck, and Katara goes red in turn. Iyori doesn’t so much as bat an eyelid. 

“I mean, not with me as in…just with me, in my igloo. In my igloo, not _with_ me!” She laughs nervously. “Sorry, did you say the Southern Air Temple?”

Iyori nods severely. “Delivering supplies requested by the Avatar.” 

If she notices the chill of tension that title brings, she gives no indication of it. Zuko clears his throat awkwardly and requests his luggage. After its delivery, the captain boards her ship again, leaving them standing alone on the ice. Most of the villagers have gone back to bed. Katara takes one of Zuko’s travelling chests before he can try to bear them both by himself and leads him to her igloo.

It’s lucky that her dad is away in Harbor City again – he spends a lot of his time there, these days. In Sokka’s usual spot, Katara lays out the few spare furs she can find; he must have taken the rest for his romantic getaway with Suki. When she gives Zuko the heaviest blanket from her own pallet, he makes her take it back.

“Firebenders don't get cold,” he says. “I’ll be okay.”

“We’ll figure out a better solution tomorrow,” Katara says, though it gnaws at her to leave a guest ill-accommodated. Especially when that guest is Zuko.

After making sure he’s as comfortable as can be, Katara lies down and tries to fall asleep. 

She can’t. Something bugs her – now that the thrill of a familiar face has worn off, she can’t quite make sense of him being here. Her romantic troubles hardly constitute a big enough emergency to pull him away from his duties. Still, she's selfishly grateful for the stability, the sense of normalcy his presence brings. 

Some time passes as she lies awake, her body heavy, her mind alert. Regardless of what Zuko says about firebenders, he's going to freeze, especially in the deep cold of polar night. “Zuko?” she whispers.

The raspy edge of his voice is softened with near-sleep. “What is it?”

“Come here. I don't want you to freeze.”

Zuko’s protest dies out almost as soon as he utters it; Katara is already pulling aside the curtain and shifting to make room in her bed. For once, she finds him too tired to argue. He settles in beside her carefully, facing her, maintaining a little space between them. Katara lets her hand settle on the pillow by his head, and their knees brush together under the covers. Momo is a warm weight curled up on their ankles. 

She thought this would feel more awkward, considering the fleeting crush on her friend she had sometimes entertained in years past, but mostly it’s just…comfortable. Zuko’s eyes are only slivers of gold beneath the drift of his eyelashes as he fights to stay awake. In this moment she thinks she could tell him anything, everything. Instead, she tells him goodnight, and falls asleep easily for the first time since Aang left.

*

Katara wakes earlier than she normally would, alone in her bed again. The disheartening thought occurs to her that she only dreamed of Zuko's visit. 

When she steps outside to fetch a pail of fresh snow for water, though, she spots him. He’s standing near the shore and looking out to the horizon where the sun won’t rise. The sky is indigo and the moon hangs nearly full behind her, casting her faint shadow towards Zuko. She touches his shoulder to make sure he’s real. He doesn’t startle.

Katara looks from the ocean to his face, the moonlight curling its fingers through the sleek hair at the back of his neck. “You know, you didn't have to come.”

“I know,” he says. “I wanted to.”

Zuko is trying and failing to pretend he isn’t shivering, so she brings him back inside. He stirs the coals to life and gives them an extra breath of flame, the way Aang always does, while Katara hangs a teapot over the pit.

They have a quick breakfast of seal jerky, and she privately relishes in Zuko’s lack of objection. It isn’t easy to prepare plant-based meals here, where most available sustenance comes from hunting. She can’t help but wonder if Aang is taking care of himself, what he’s eating.

Soon, they brave the cold again, after Katara forces Zuko to bundle up. “You’re not as hot as you think you are, Your Fieryness,” she tells him, laughing, and he snorts, glancing away with rosy cheeks as she adjusts the hood of his borrowed parka. 

The stumble of her own heartbeat catches her off-guard. Since when does he blush so easily?

She outlines and executes her plan: where the village borders the sea, she extends a thick sheet of ice outwards, enough to build his private guest igloo on. Once it’s solid beneath her feet, she sets about moulding the snow into blocks with her bending, working by the light of a flame Zuko procures.

She’s just about finished when Sokka and Suki arrive. Suki spots them first and effortlessly hops off the still-moving sled, leaving the dogs to rush off with a wide-eyed Sokka, who shouts something about Zuko stealing his parka.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she says, giving Zuko a friendly shove. “Did you come for the solstice festival?”

“I…didn’t even know there was going to be one,” Zuko admits. He shoots Katara a look of betrayal, like this is one of the many things she’s neglected to tell him about. Which is fair.

“Oh, yeah, it’s gorgeous! I can’t stick around for it this year, but I wish I could. Aang meditates into the Spirit World, and then the lights dance, and it’s like…” Suki trails off, frowning. “Wow, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think. Um, how are you holding up, Katara?”

Katara’s shoulders have tensed, but she tries to give Suki a smile. “Don’t worry about me, I’m okay. How was camping?”

“Fun! Even though sometimes your brother is a real stick in the mud –” She looks over Katara’s shoulder, “– who I love dearly with my whole heart, of course.”

Katara barely gets a glimpse of Sokka sneaking up behind her before he lifts her off her feet, swinging her around like they’re little kids again. She kicks at him and yells until he puts her down and lets her fix her rumpled coat. He grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“What was that for?”

“Just figured you could use some cheering up.” He leans over Katara, watching her pick up an extra block she didn’t end up using. Making sure Suki and Zuko are busy with their own conversation, he asks, “So, what brings the Fire Lord to our humble little corner of the world?”

“I was about as surprised as you are, trust me. He showed up late last night.”

“Right, right, but if you’re only making this igloo now, where did he sleep when he –” he cuts off with a yelp as Katara drops the snow brick on his foot.

“We were planning to go ice dodging today,” she says briskly. She dusts the last of the snow from her mittens, gives Suki a friendly wave, and makes her escape, pulling Zuko with her.

“We were?” Zuko automatically follows Katara’s lead, confused. She jabs him with her elbow. “I mean, we were!”

Sokka tugs his foot free and tails them, persistent. “You know, I’m not really sure we should be extending the honorary tribe membership again. Nothing against Zuko, it’s just that the last person we gave it to doesn’t seem to appreciate it very much.”

Katara exhales, trying not to let her irritation overcome her. She unknots the mooring lines a little too aggressively and breaks up the ice around the canoe until it floats freely on the end of the rope in her hand.

Bidding them a safe outing, Suki starts to drag Sokka away. Katara mouths a thank you as she and Zuko board, though her brother still won’t shut up. “Really, what’s he even gonna get anyways, the Mark of the Former Jerk?”

“I can still hear you,” Zuko calls over his shoulder as Katara draws the black water beneath the boat, sending them out to sea.

Even after they’ve rounded the village’s nearest igloo, Sokka calls out, “And stay away from icebergs! That’s what started all this trouble in the first place!”

Katara imagines he’ll still be making digs at Aang even after Suki gives him a lecture on insensitivity. It takes work to get things through his skull sometimes. 

It’s not that she isn’t bitter, too, but some part of her will always want to defend Aang. She doesn’t regret all they’ve shared – she definitely doesn’t regret finding him in the iceberg, seven years ago now, or helping him save the world. It just feels more and more like something of the past every day he stays gone. She’d rather not dwell on him or what the future could have held if this is how it’s going to be. 

It isn’t fair, that the one thing she was always sure of could melt away so easily in her hands.

Katara keeps her eyes skyward until the threat of tears passes, swallowing against the knot in her throat. Zuko sits across from her, his hands awkwardly poised on his knees, looking away as if to give her privacy. She wishes Sokka could be half as considerate, but then, it’s weird to think of Zuko as anything like her brother.

She lets the canoe drift until it comes to a standstill. They’re coming up on the pack of drift ice: jutting white teeth stark against the dark ocean, lumbering and bobbing back and forth, bumping into one another with menacingly loud cracks. Zuko glances from them to her.

“So…were you waiting to explain ice dodging until we got too far out for me to change my mind?”

Katara smiles wryly. “It’s pretty much what it sounds like.”

“Okay. How do you win?”

Katara stands up, planting her feet carefully to keep the weight evenly distributed. “You work as a team and stay alive. You might want to bring a little firepower to the table.”

Zuko lights a spark, then a ball of flame, his brow creased with concentration. Belatedly, Katara realizes that the sun being trapped below the horizon might make bending more troublesome for him. She starts to reconsider, but Zuko brightens the flame, and the challenge reflected in his eyes when he looks at her makes her stomach flip. He follows her example and stands, facing forwards.

“What happens if we get caught between those?” he asks, like it’s a dare, not a question of life or death.

Katara laughs. The thrill is settling in her veins, too, reviving her the way the sun revives the few tough-growing arctic flowers when polar night ends. “Personally, I’d rather not find out.” 

She stirs the current alongside the canoe, turning it so they’re ready to make a straight shot between two floes. “In the spirit of honesty, I haven’t actually done this in the ice before. And normally it takes a three-person team.”

Zuko whips around to look at her with alarm for the first time, almost losing his balance. “What?”

“We’ll be fine! We’re the finest water-firebender duo this side of the world.”

She propels them forward before Zuko can try to dissuade her, sending up a salty spray in their wake. 

They make it around the first floes without incident, but as she goes to weave between the next set, two loose blocks of ice smash together violently in front of them. Katara hastily backpedals the water, and Zuko puts up both hands in a wall of flame that repels them from the ice at the same time as it melts it.

When the fire dies down, they’re left in the dark. Katara can hear the distinct noise of the floes separating with the waves and decides to take the chance. Zuko calls out in protest, but she’s already jetting their canoe through the long, narrow gap. He gets another fireball ready just in time to illuminate the next chunk of ice looming before them, and Katara turns the canoe sharply right, through another channel, and then left. 

Gradually, Zuko learns to help guide her. They build up rhythm and momentum, dodging and weaving until there’s no passable route and Zuko has to burn a path through an enormous span of ice. Katara catches some of the freshwater streaming off and flicks it at Zuko’s head, making him shake his hair out with a huff.

The last stretch is a long one, full of tricky turns. Katara accidentally rams the canoe into the side of the ice floe, nearly jolting Zuko off his feet, and has to lean sharply to speed around it as its crushing mass rolls towards them on the next wave. They squeeze through the last rapidly closing channel, fire flying in all directions.

Zuko surprises her with a celebratory whoop, almost a howl. It’s infectious; Katara howls too, and then they both devolve into exhilarated laughter, their canoe bobbing in the open water with Yue’s crescent smile shining down on them from above.

*

The guest igloo is small, cozy. Katara fortifies the ice beneath it every day, and he often retreats there when he’s finished helping her with outdoor chores. She doesn’t really need the assistance, but it’s nice to have a strong flame to work by in the constant twilight gloom, and she enjoys seeing him confronted by menial tasks he never has to deal with at the palace, like skinning hides and sewing furs. 

Zuko’s presence in daily routine doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the village, either. A trio of teenage girls trail after him, spying and ogling with hushed giggles, only slightly more obvious than their mothers, who Katara knows would be inordinately pleased with him even if he just sat there and looked pretty.

She can’t criticize them too much, though, considering her own thoughts. Not that she’s ever been free to – or actively _wanted_ to – pursue something there, given her history with Aang. Still, his magnetism is something of an unspoken agreement between her entire social circle (and an explicit one among tabloid reporters). 

Aang wasn’t immune, either. Katara often saw the way his eyes softened during Zuko’s formal addresses, the way he talked about Zuko with such unfailing pride and faith. She wondered, sometimes, if his feelings were more than friendship.

As for her, she’s certain she grew out of that silly teenage infatuation. She counts that development as a win, especially because it runs parallel to their growing closeness as confidants over the years. There’s still the matter of his sharp eyes and elegant cheekbones and the sheer goodness in the core of his heart, but…really, Katara’s over it.

She never misses an opportunity to remind him he’s the Southern Water Tribe’s heartthrob, though, just to see his ears burn pink as he denies it. _The regal, powerful, magnanimous Fire Lord, long may he reign._

But he’s just Zuko to her. Her friend, and Aang’s friend, whatever else either of them may have wanted him to be at one point or another. Despite the present circumstances, she isn’t willing to jeopardize that.

Given all the attention he’s receiving she can’t blame him for wanting to hide away in his igloo. Katara keeps him company whenever she can. Half the week has passed already, and he’s leaving at the end of it, so she wants to make the most of their time.

Between hunching over the scrolls arrayed all across his sleeping bag and signing paperwork using his cargo chest as a writing surface, Zuko fills her in on the latest news from the Fire Nation. He tells her about a recent deal with a major refinery to relocate and prevent further pollution of the Jang Hui River where many peasants live.

“I wanted to name the motion in honour of the Painted Lady, but nobody else seemed to understand,” he says, and she laughs.

“I wish we had more time with everyone to swap stories from back then. It seemed like everywhere we visited, something exciting happened.” Katara sighs, rolling over onto her back on the spare rug. “If only we didn’t have so many responsibilities these days.”

“I think you all had plenty of responsibilities back then. Important ones. Like, I don’t know, saving the world from my living nightmare of a father?”

“Oh, you know what I mean. I just miss hanging out with the group. It seems like we only ever get together at world policy meetings or war anniversaries.”

“Yeah. I guess I miss it too.” Zuko is quiet for a moment, except for the scratch of his pen. “But at least you always have part of the team right here, with Sokka, and Aang.”

He doesn’t cringe away when he mentions Aang’s name; his eyes find hers, intentional. Katara nods to his point, but she isn’t ready to address that particular elephant rhino in the room.

“It’ll be time for dinner soon, so I’d better go help Gran Gran,” she says, shrugging on her third-layer parka. She stops next to Zuko to tug loose the ribbon securing his topknot – he tries to be so formal, even here – and adds with teasing sternness, “You don’t want to hurt her feelings, so don’t be late. And no crowns at the dinner table!”

Zuko looks ruffled by her theft, free strands of hair arraying themselves charmingly around his face, but he poses no argument. Katara leaves him to carefully disentangle his fallen headpiece.

Later, when they’re all full of arctic hen and the sweet wine Zuko brought as a gift, Hakoda begins the nightly storytelling with the legend of the childless woman who adopted a polar bear dog as her son. Katara’s heard it plenty of times, but he seems to add new details with every retelling. She laments that only Sokka inherited that skill, thinking idly of bouncing children on her knee before their bedtime, and Aang’s variety of air nomad tales.

When her grandparents and father turn in for the night, Katara follows suit. Zuko wears a familiar squint of suspicion; she’s a known night cat-owl and doesn’t often go to bed at the same hour as the old folks. She’s saved from inquiry when Sokka offers to teach Zuko how to carve walrus-yak ivory, though she thinks Zuko’s the one who will need saving soon. Sokka has that gleam in his eyes that he gets when he’s planning an investigation.

Drawing the dividing curtain behind her, Katara listens as she gets ready for bed. Sokka gives some verbal instruction, but for the most part, the only sounds are the _chk_ of their knives and the occasional exclamations of pain from Zuko, immediately followed by laughter from Sokka.

“Good thing you don’t need to make betrothal necklaces in the Fire Nation!”

“Ha, ha. I’m too busy running a country to worry about betrothal right now.”

There’s a pause, and even without seeing him, Katara has a feeling she knows what her brother’s up to – looking and listening for signs of someone awake; always Gran Gran after the warriors left for the Earth Kingdom, usually Dad since the war’s end. She’s used to being the one on the other side, not the one who might overhear.

Her lantern has already been blown out, and Momo, asleep on her chest, doesn’t make a sound. 

“Not too busy for Katara,” Sokka says, casual as can be as he resumes carving. 

Zuko nearly yelps, likely having nicked himself again, and Katara stares up at the curve of the ceiling, holding her breath. If she was ever actually sleepy to begin with, she’s wide awake now.

“You know that’s – I’m not –!” He exhales slowly, composing himself, but he still sounds defensive. “I have more honour than that, and I think you know Katara and I aren’t… It’s nothing like that.”

Katara exhales, and tries not to dwell on the way her heart sinks in her chest.

“Not even a little? I mean, the papers here seem to think you make a pretty good match. I think you’ve got chemistry. And shared trauma, the real stuff.”

Zuko’s voice is taut, bordering on frustration. “And _I_ think she needs to work things out with Aang. I think they both want to stay together.”

“Okay, okay, but you’ve gotta admit, this is above and beyond just making sure a friend’s relationship succeeds.” After a weighty pause, Sokka adds, “I’m just saying, now’s your best chance. I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to try something new, after him being such a jerk.”

Katara resists the urge to knock something over and let him know she’s listening before he goes off on another Aang-mocking session. Zuko says nothing. The metal poker clinks quietly in the fire-pit.

“I know she doesn’t want me to judge him, but how can I not?” She hears the shuffle of moccasins on the rug, a sure sign of Sokka pacing in his agitation. “I thought he saw the South Pole as his home as much as we do. I mean, the world’s biggest hero makes his base in this tiny little arctic village – that means something to us. You’d think it would’ve mattered to him, too. But no, he’s just so miserable here, he has to run off in the middle of a night, in a snowstorm, and leave Momo behind while he’s at it, too!”

“That’s what their fight was about? Where to live?”

“She hasn’t told you yet?”

Even though they can’t see her, Katara feels the urge to shrink in her sleeping bag and hide. How is she going to bring it up, especially after this? Zuko’s already given her so many chances to talk about it, and she’s turned down every one, even though she’s _wanted_ to tell him. It’s just…difficult, shameful, because what if he thinks she’s in the wrong? 

“I like that kid, I really do,” Sokka goes on. “But just because he’s the Avatar doesn’t mean he gets to walk all over my sister’s feelings.”

He sounds – genuinely emotional. Her throat feels tight, and preemptively she wipes at her eyes, hugging Momo a little closer. She didn’t realize Sokka cared so much, but it explains why he’s been so fixated on the subject, even when all Katara wants is to avoid thinking about it.

The heavy quiet drags on until Zuko finally speaks up. “Listen, I understand, but I think you have to look at both sides. Katara is important to me, too. And so is Aang.”

His concern touches her differently than Sokka’s, a thick clog of feeling in her chest. She can’t say why. Knowing Sokka, she expects him to press Zuko further on what he means by _important_ – she almost wishes he would. 

But instead, they say their goodnights. The orange glow of the fire reflected on the roof disappears with a dying crackle. As Sokka tiptoes past, she anticipates his next move, quickly closing her eyes. Sure enough, the curtain rustles when he peeks in at her. 

She wonders what she would say if he caught her, if he asked what she thought about Zuko. She wants to reach out, draw the curtain aside, and just talk to him, the way they always have. Speaking any of it aloud would feel like giving up on Aang, though, and in her heart she knows she’s not ready to do that.

That night, Katara dreams of the sticky humidity of a Fire Nation summer, the refreshing tide washing against her legs and Zuko’s, and another set adorned with sky-blue tattoos. A breath of air brushes the backs of their necks with love. 

She doesn’t remember it in the morning.

*

Everybody in Harbor City must have heard the news, but they still seem surprised when Katara shows up for the solstice festival with the Fire Lord on her arm instead of the Avatar. She and Zuko joked about it beforehand, what a stir this would cause for the reporters, and she had convinced herself the warmth that bloomed in her chest at the too-rare sight of his smile was just a friendship thing.

After the formalities, Elder Urnu gives the ceremony’s closing address. Only the most devout elders keep the fast and vigil to welcome the sun’s symbolic return the next morning, while the rest of her people disperse to enjoy the less solemn side of the festivities. Together with Zuko, Sokka, their dad, and their grandparents, Katara makes her way through the streets of Harbor City. 

They walk with their heads tipped back, mesmerized by the lights of the Spirits dancing overhead, and the lights put up by the festival organisers. Colourful paper lanterns are strung between the buildings, a touch of decoration borrowed from the Air Nomads, but with rippling tribal designs painted across them. 

There are several food stalls with long lines waiting their turn to try steamed dumplings and fried pastries. Auntie Ashuna is there too, with her cart of seal jerky, which Zuko immediately takes a liking to. Gran Gran stays behind to chat with her, and Dad also excuses himself to let the “youngsters,” as he still calls them, wander on their own.

While Sokka drags Zuko to and fro, Katara marvels at how much warmer the festival feels with each passing year, with so many people coming together to share food and socialize, bearing lanterns and smiles. In the first few years after the war, many of the elders insisted on restoring the ceremony as a sacred occasion for them alone to call upon the Spirits. They had been reluctant to allow Aang to take part, but when he brought the lights back to the sky, it became impossible to deny the appeal.

Many of the changes to the Glacier Spirits Festival – including its name – had been controversial, but Aang said that allowing the whole tribe to participate was the way to strengthen their spiritual connection and restore the balance that had been ruptured for nearly a hundred years. When Katara’s family, including the new Head Chieftain of the tribe, lent their support, the elders reluctantly agreed. Aang even appointed a “fun committee” to generate ideas, reviving old traditions, making up new ones, and incorporating some from other backgrounds. It’s turned into a wonderful undertaking, Katara thinks. The festival grows a little bigger, a little more exciting, every year. It brings more and more people together.

A happy young couple swans proudly past her, faces aglow, and she realizes with a clench in her heart that she’s been holding out hope that Aang might show up at the last minute. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she imagined spending this perfect night with him and Zuko both, and with her family. This is the first year since the revival that he hasn’t been here.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asks, stirring her from her reverie. He’s standing close to her, off to the side of the jewellery stand where Sokka is browsing.

Katara nods, looking up at him. The gold of his eyes seems softer than usual, melted in the flickers of firelight all around, and his breath fogs up from over the edge of his coat collar. She links her arm through his and jostles his shoulder affectionately. She’s been happy all night, and there’s no reason to let herself get down now.

“You have to leave in the morning, right?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “Good thing I didn’t let you be in charge of packing my things onto the sled.”

“Hey, I knew that already. I’m just thinking, since it’s your last night, Sokka and I need to make sure you have a great time.”

“I came here to cheer _you_ up, remember?”

Katara can’t help but laugh at how serious he looks.

She’s almost certain she sees him turn pink as he glances away from her. “Actually, uh, when Suki was here, she told me about this place she and Sokka found. These caverns, they’re open to the sky at the top, like little volcanoes. She said they’re good for stargazing.”

“Oh, I know where that is,” Katara says. “The Crystal Ring. What about it?”

“Well, I thought maybe you’d like to take a trip to go see it, after the festival. I just thought, it might be easier to talk out there, if you want, before I leave.”

Zuko rubs the back of his head, looking sheepish, and Katara resists the urge to steal the ribbon from his topknot, not wanting to embarrass him in front of too many people.

“I’ll think about it,” she says, squeezing his arm.

They don’t get to discuss it further before Sokka rejoins them and leads them off to the next attraction. This one is a new carnival-style game, similar to something she’s seen before at a festival in the Earth Kingdom. They watch as two children step up and hand over three coins each to play. Katara recognizes them as the young waterbender sisters, Siku and Sura, who use their bending to pick up the icicle-darts and throw them at the balloon-covered board. They manage to pop at least ten balloons before the operator tells them time’s up, better luck next time, and they eagerly try again once he’s set up new balloons. 

This happens four times before they run out of energy or money, or both, and the operator laments what a shame it is that they just can’t have one of these nice prizes unless they pop _all_ the balloons – certainly not the balloon darts game that Katara’s familiar with. Katara hurries to comfort the teary-eyed children as Sokka squints and marches up to interrogate the operator. Zuko joins Katara and the children, whose eyes dart nervously across his face. Katara gives them a reassuring smile.

“You guys still want those toys?” Zuko asks.

Sura shakes her head and wipes her eyes bravely. “We can’t win them.”

“Hey, you both did great,” Katara says. “Your waterbending is really coming along.” She glances to where Sokka is quizzing the operator and whispers, “You want to know a secret? I think it wasn’t your fault. I think that man over there might have made it so you couldn’t win.”

Siku gasps. Katara ruffles her hair, looks to Zuko, and adds, “That just means we’re going to have to stand up for you.”

When they arrive the operator gives them a toothy grin. “New customers, care to try your luck, eh? Maybe you’ve got more fun-loving spirits about you than this fellow here.”

Sokka has one of the icicle darts, eyeing the end of it. “Okay listen, I can have fun, but does this dart look sharp to you?” he asks, waving it in the operator’s face. He plucks another one out of the tall stack. “Or this one? And I’m willing to bet a bunch of those balloons are underinflated, too.”

“Slander!” says the operator. “It just so happens that nobody’s been good enough to beat the game so far.” He jingles the coin pouch hanging from his waist with a wink.

“Well, say goodbye to that lucky record,” Katara says, bending as many icicles as she can hold between her fingers towards her.

“Hold on now, hold on – you’re a master waterbender, that’s hardly fair! You there, you’re not a waterbender, are you?” He points to Zuko, “How about you take a shot at it, so this other gentleman can see I’m giving everyone a sporting chance. If you win, you can get a prize for the lucky lady. If you lose, you pay me double – no, triple!”

Katara recognizes the twitch of Zuko’s mouth as he holds back a smile. “If I lose, Mr –” He glances at the name tag, “– Mr Varik, I’ll pay your weight in gold.”

Varik practically foams at the mouth at that, agreeing and blabbering the rules at them. Zuko considers an icicle dart, ignoring the time already ticking by. “And we don’t have to use these?”

“Well, no, I suppose you –”

“You might want to stand aside.”

Zuko raises and flicks both hands, and flames spark from each fingertip. The heat spreads across the whole board, eliciting a flurry of pops, before the board topples backwards into the snow, extinguished with a hiss. Katara turns to beckon the children closer. Their eyes are big and shining with awe when they look up at Zuko now, and her heart warms at the small smile he gives them.

“Go on. Take your pick.”

From the array of prize toys, they choose a polar bear puppy and an orca seal calf. Varik splutters in protest, but Katara silences him with a glare. “I think you should be happy with the earnings from all the people you swindled already and go home for the night.”

They leave Varik fuming while the kids try out their toys. Sura uses waterbending to help her rocking bear-dog glide along like a sled, but insists on Zuko helping push her too. Katara and Sokka follow behind, until Sokka spots a stand for fruit-flavoured ice cones and badgers Zuko into buying for everyone.

When Siku and Sura’s parents find them, they have sticky hands and exciting stories to tell, and Sura won’t let go of Zuko’s sleeve. Katara feels like her heart might overflow, watching him imitate Varik’s voice for the kids as they reenact the story. He’s good with children, gentle, though he’s denied it in the past. She sips at her lychee ice, content to wave from afar.

“Hey, Katara,” says Sokka, with an obnoxious half-mouthful of slush. “I’ve got an idea for a new game for next year.”

There’s an utterly devious look in his sidelong glance that warns her not to rise to the bait, but she’s in too good a mood. “What is it?”

“A kissing booth! We’ll both run it so people have options, either you or the hot sibling –”

“Uh huh.”

“– and we’ll totally make a ton of money off of it, and you can even invite Mr Fire Lord again to, you know, test it out.” He waggles his eyebrows aggressively.

With a subtle twist of her wrist, Katara freezes the snow beneath him. She watches him eat it when he slips and falls face-first. “Careful, brother, you should really watch your step,” she says, pulling him back to his feet by the wolf’s tail.

Pouting, Sokka rubs at the big red sore spot on his forehead and edges away from her. “Yeesh, you’re starting to sound like Azula.”

“What about Azula?” Zuko asks, returning to them.

At a warning look from Katara, Sokka brushes it off and quickly changes the subject to show off the necklace he found earlier for Suki. With Sokka sufficiently distracted, Katara leaves them to search for her dad.

She finds him with his girlfriend, Malina, sitting in the courtyard outside the newly-constructed palace. They don’t seem to hear her approach, leaning in for a kiss until Katara coughs awkwardly behind them. Her dad sounds a little embarrassed when he invites her to sit on the ice bench. She doesn’t want to intrude for longer than she has to, but he speaks before she can.

“Katara, we’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Trying not to raise her eyebrows too high, she seats herself next to him, on the opposite side from Malina. “Okay? I’m all ears.”

“Now that construction is finally finished, the Council of Chieftains and Elders has requested that I live in the palace full-time. I’ll be more reachable to them here, as well as to anyone who needs me.”

“Oh.” Katara blinks at her dad in surprise for a moment before looking to the two-tiered building with its elaborately sculpted pillars and parapets. It’s the largest structure in the city, the largest the South Pole has seen in a hundred years.

“We want to make the whole South more connected, so we can help all our people develop their own cities,” Malina says. “And the best part is, there’ll be a whole wing reserved for your family. You and Sokka can have your own rooms, we’ll all have plenty of space.”

Katara opens her mouth to retort, but thinks better of it. Malina’s intentions are good, but it still rubs Katara the wrong way for her to speak like she’s one of them.

“Pakku and Kanna are planning to move, too,” her dad adds. “Both of them are getting old, and village life is harder, you know. And Sokka, he’s starting to take on more responsibilities here.”

“So, I’m the last to know?”

His hands, clasped in his lap, fidget, and Malina touches his arm. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but you’ve had a lot on your mind, sweetheart. The plans were only finalized around the same time you and Aang had your…falling out. And then with Zuko visiting, we just never had a good moment alone. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come as a shock.”

Forcing a slow, controlled exhale, Katara watches her breath cloud the air and reaches over to take his hand. “It’s okay, Dad. I just need some time to think about it.”

She regards his rough knuckles, the way they still seem to dwarf hers, and remembers the way she would always compare her little hand to his, and to Mom’s and Sokka’s. They carved the outlines into the wall of their igloo every year to track her and Sokka’s growth, and Mom had been so proud when Katara was able to leave an imprint using waterbending instead. 

“All the time you need,” Malina says kindly, but Katara struggles to meet her eyes. It doesn’t help that she continues, with a small laugh, “Of course, not that much, since we’ll be moving in a few weeks’ time. Isn’t it exciting? And your village, everyone there is being encouraged to come to the city as well, so you’ll have people around who you know and…”

Katara blocks out the rest and nods curtly before she makes her exit. The crowd on the main street is starting to thin out, and she finds her brother and Zuko at a tea stall, cups in hands, engrossed in conversation with the vendor. 

Sokka doesn’t even seem to notice when she pulls Zuko away and says, “Let’s take that trip to the Crystal Ring.”

*

Katara drives the team of dogs across the snow, Zuko clinging to her, arms around her waist. He’d asked to drive at first, but judging by the way he keeps his head tucked down, he’s not regretting deferring to her expertise. Even without a storm raging, the wind is fierce and cold. To her, it’s refreshing. It clears her head and settles peacefully over her, the unbroken white expanse clear enough to reflect the ebb and flow of the lights still flickering in the sky.

When they arrive, they bring the dogs in, and Katara bends a wall of ice and snow in front of the entrance to insulate them. She and Zuko venture deeper by the light of a flame held in his palm. Katara uses waterbending to slice crosses into the walls, safely marking their path.

One opening they come to overlooks a huge cavern entirely filled with stalagmites, with no way down and no motive to try. Their crystallized edges glimmer under the moonlight that shines in through a sizable hole in the roof. Zuko leans out a little too far, and Katara grips his arm to steady him. He gives a wordless yell to test the echo, and gestures for her to try. Screaming without reason helps, somehow, and she wonders if he can tell she needs it.

At some point, they travel downhill and emerge into another cavern that’s open to the sky, this one without so many sharp obstacles. They weave their way between the slick rocks and dodge icy puddles until they’re standing in the centre. 

Katara turns a few steps in a circle, marvelling at the scene. Crystals in blue, green, and violet tones climb the walls in every direction. The sky looks even more enormous than in any of the other caverns they’ve explored so far, like a giant punched a hole through the rock eons ago. 

She tips her head all the way back to look up, a breath of awe escaping her. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Zuko agrees. From the corner of her eye, Katara notices he’s not gazing up.

She checks behind her to see if he’s looking at something there – and fails to notice the frozen puddle until she’s mid-fall, with Zuko calling her name and lunging towards her. She squeezes her eyes shut to brace herself, but the stony ground doesn’t rise up to meet her; all she feels is warmth, the firm press of Zuko’s chest against her shoulder. He’s caught her, holding nearly her full weight, her feet still skidded out on the ice. 

Katara isn’t sure which of their hearts she hears pounding loudest with the rush of the near-accident, and she can’t help a laugh bursting through the nervous energy. Every inch of her body feels alert.

“Thanks,” she says, sounding too meek to her own ears as he guides her to safe footing and sets her aright. She feels the phantom heat of his hands linger at the small of her back, even after they part.

“Let’s sit?” he suggests. Katara nods, and he removes one of his outer coats to lay under them as a blanket, despite her protests. “Firebender, remember?”

They stretch out side by side, looking up at the inky sky and the millions of bright pinpoints scattered across it like dazzling snowflakes. The stars are almost this bright from her village, too, but something about the majesty of the cavernous mountain, the frost-lipped sheen of crystal coating the ring above them, makes everything feel grander.

A familiar sky was one of the things Katara missed the most when she first set off with Sokka and Aang. The constellations were all turned around, almost unrecognizable, and in some cities, it was hard to see the stars at all. But there had been other new sights, incredible sights, from Appa’s back; the covering of wispy clouds, the way the sunset touched their ridges and stirred all shades of pink and orange through them; the forests and deserts and lakes made small from above. That year, she learned just how wide the world was, and found her place in it wasn’t as small as she expected.

Zuko must be pondering something similar, because his voice is laced with contemplation when he speaks. “When I was in exile, I always thought I’d have to go back to the Fire Nation to ever feel at home again.”

Katara turns her head, watching how the soft light reflected off the crystals plays across his face. She nods lightly, urging him on.

“I didn’t want anything to do with Ba Sing Se at first. It wasn’t where I belonged. But Uncle told me something – that life happens wherever you are.” He chuckles to himself and shrugs. “I don’t think I really got it then, but I guess it’s true when they say you get wiser with age. At least, I hope I understand better now.”

“But you still think of the Fire Nation as your home, right?”

“Yeah, but it isn’t as much about the place. It’s more like… It’s the people, and my duty to them, and our duty to the rest of the world. But it’s not just about being needed somewhere, either.” He pauses, shakes his head. “What I mean is, it’s not the _only_ place I’ve felt at home.”

“Where else, then?”

“It’s funny, I think the first time I really recognized it was when I left the Fire Nation on my own. When I joined you and Aang, and everyone, at the Western Air Temple.”

“Aww, even after I was mean to you for all that time?”

Zuko lets out a breathy laugh, steam rising gently in the cold air. “Yeah, despite that. And now there are other places we all share. Like, the palace, it isn’t as…there’s just a lot of history, good and bad, but I see the good more and more every year my friends visit for my birthday.” 

He sits up, face tilted to the sky; something in the gentle arch of his brow compels Katara. “And the apartment Aang and I had when we were laying the groundwork for the United Republic, it had the worst elephant rat problem. Even here – no offence, I mean, it’s really nice, but it’s _freezing_ – and it’s also been my home for the past week. You can grow to appreciate anywhere with the right people beside you.” He turns his earnest gaze on her. “Does that make sense?”

After a moment, Katara nods. “You’re turned into quite the speech-maker, huh?” she says. 

He gives her half a smile, but he’s still looking at her expectantly. 

She knows he’s trying to get to the heart of her problem now, and she knows she shouldn’t deflect any longer, but it’s hard. She takes a deep breath. “I think it was different for me, when I left. I mean, as much as I wanted to help Aang, and learn waterbending, and see the world, I always felt like…like I was abandoning my people, my family. The same ones I was going out to fight for. I almost didn’t leave at all, actually, until you attacked the village.” She sits up, too, and starts playing with the nearby puddle she slipped on earlier, unfreezing and refreezing it. “You were what brought us together, in a way.”

Zuko’s mouth twists. “I’m still not proud of what I did.”

“We’re here now, after everything.” Katara lets the water fall still. “So much is changing here, and it’s hard to get used to, but it’s also…a relief? Everyone’s safe, and moving on, and nobody relies on me to fix everything anymore. For the first time I feel like, maybe it doesn’t have to be the end of the world for me to be able to leave.”

“I imagine Aang feels that way, too,” Zuko says, and Katara stares at him wide-eyed, taken aback by his insight.

“I never even thought about that,” she murmurs. “I guess I never really thought about what I want, either. I’ve spent so long putting everyone else first, everyone except me and Aang. But now I know my family’s going to be just fine – the South will be just fine. I mean, it’ll always be home in my heart, but maybe it’s time to find a new place for myself in the world. With Aang, too, if he still wants anything to do with me after this.”

Zuko snorts. “Are you kidding? He’s crazy about you.” He meets her eyes levelly, and when he says it, she believes him. “You two are going to be just fine.”

Realizing that tears are pricking her eyes, Katara wipes at them and laughs awkwardly. “I’m sorry I took this long to open up to you, Zuko.”

“No, I get it,” he says with a shrug. “I think Aang and I have an easier time talking to each other. You and me, we’re better at action.”

She looks at him for a long, quiet moment, then raises her hand to rest against his scar. A few years ago, she offered to heal it for him a second time, and felt a weighty sort of relief when he declined. It was a turning point of trust between them, then, as it had been the first time; only now she knew it had really stuck. “Thank you,” she says.

Zuko wrinkles his nose a fraction, but doesn't shy away from her touch. “For barging into your home unannounced and causing you trouble?”

“For being here when you knew I needed it.”

Katara pulls him into a hug, and gradually he relaxes into it, arms settling gingerly around her. She stays close even after she lets go, leaning against his shoulder instead.

“You know you’re my best friend, right?” she asks. “I mean, besides Sokka, but he doesn’t count. I’ve been stuck with him since I was born.”

Zuko smiles at that and shakes his head. “Aang always says that to me, too. I don’t think I really understood what a best friend even was, growing up. But I’m starting to.”

They watch the stars together for a while longer, until a new wave of the Spirits’ lights plays across the sky, soft violet hues burning red on the edges. Eventually, they leave the cavern and retrace their steps through the mountain passageways.

This time, Katara agrees to let Zuko drive the dogs; she can reach the reins easily from behind him if she needs to. The return trip is just as peaceful as the first, and beyond the half-formed shape of Harbor City, there’s a hint of pre-dawn light on the horizon that won’t rise any higher for the rest of the day.

By the time they make it into the city, there are already signs of early-morning activity, hunters and fishermen setting out for the day and the warmth of the local coffee shop fogging up its windows from the inside. Once the dogs are taken care of and Zuko’s luggage collected, they head to the small boathouse where the canoes are stored overnight and pick a bench to sit and wait for the much larger Fire Nation ship that will come to take Zuko back home.

With their time together dwindling away, she can’t help but want to keep him talking, though. There’s no telling when he’ll be free enough from his duties to visit again. Maybe it’ll be easier, though, if she and Aang are settled somewhere more conveniently located by then.

“I wonder where we’ll go. I mean, neutral ground would be best, right? Maybe the Fire Nation.” Katara’s face lights up with mischief. “No, no, that might be too dangerous for our relationship. Aang wouldn’t be able to resist you.”

“According to the _Daily Dragon_ ,” Zuko grumbles, and she could almost swear he’s blushing. He clears his throat and adds, “I remember you telling me the culture of Yu Dao made you think of what you wanted with Aang.”

Katara’s shoulders fall with a sigh. “He seemed really set on an air temple, before.”

“And you were set on staying here. I think you’re both capable of compromise.”

Katara considers this. “Speaking of the air temples, I thought you would have stopped to see Aang on your way here. I’m assuming he wrote to you, too.”

“He did. He said he wasn’t going to stay there, so I knew he was already gone when my ship passed by.” Zuko shakes his head, stifling a yawn. “I thought I could be more useful here than trying to hunt the Avatar when he isn’t ready to be found.”

“Times really have changed, huh?”

He chuckles at that, tired and soft, and she realizes that while she’s still wide awake, his eyelids keep falling shut. Their outing lasted through all of what would be proper nighttime, and it’s probably been hard for him to adjust his sleep cycle here even without that factor. Katara pats her leg in an offer to let him stretch out on the bench and get a nap in. Zuko declines, so she knows he’s truly worn out when he dozes off against her shoulder anyways. He fidgets himself awake a couple of times, gradually relaxing when she assures him everything’s alright. 

When the ship arrives, they walk out together. They share a final, long hug before Zuko pulls back. She smiles, studying his face to try to hold him in her mind until next time. On a final impulse, she leans up to kiss his cheek and says, “Pass on my love to Aang. And tell him to come home already.”

Zuko is definitely blushing this time, but he nods resolutely and catches her hands in his, pressing something into the palm of her glove. Katara uncurls her fingers to find a small ivory charm in the shape of a crescent moon. Before she can thank him for the ornament, he’s already boarding the ship. 

She wanders back to the boathouse to watch through the windows, fiddling idly with the charm’s curve. Sokka finds her there as the ship sets off, cutting through dark waters.

“Aw, did I miss saying goodbye to Zuko? Is he off to see your jerk boyfriend next?” 

She lets out a long-suffering sigh and shakes her head. “I don’t think Aang’s the only one who’s been a jerk. I was, too.”

“Well, you might as well throw Zuko in the mix, too, after you both ditched me at the festival last night. You’re _all_ jerks. That sound fair?”

“How about you, Sokka? You were planning on moving away from the village and you didn’t tell me?”

He opens his mouth, raising a defensive finger, then drops his stance. “Yeah, alright, you got me there.”

Katara says nothing, looking head-on at the sea with her arms crossed.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, Katara,” he sighs. “About that, and not being the most supportive about you and Aang. And teasing you and Zuko.”

She glances up at him and, realizing he’s being sincere for once, relaxes a little. “I almost thought you’d submit your own article to the _Southern Enquirer_ ,” she mutters. “‘The inside scoop on my sister’s love life.’”

Sokka laughs. “That’s a terrible headline. It would be more like – ooh, ‘a new flame?’ Or maybe, ‘Katara, Aang, Zuko - the real story.’” He wrinkles his nose. “No, wait, that makes it sound like it’s between all three of you. I’ll keep workshopping it.”

Katara feels her face warm at the implication, and hopes her fur hood will hide it well enough. Really, she can’t let herself worry that far ahead. She needs to fix things with Aang, first.

“You know, I think it’s kinda inevitable,” Sokka says. She glances at him with alarm. There’s no way he believes… 

Noticing her expression, he clarifies, “Arguing sometimes, with Aang. You’re different people, and you’re going to disagree. I think anyone in a relationship’s been a jerk before. I know I’ve hurt Suki’s feelings, and she’s hurt mine – not that I have as many to get hurt as you girls, but, you know. I guess I’ve got some, because it feels awful when we don’t get along. But we always find a way to make it up. You will, too.”

“You’re growing into a wise old man now, huh?”

“No, no, just the local Love Expert.”

“Gross, please don’t call yourself that.”

“Can’t help it, it’s the truth. Now come on.” Sokka ushers her from the boathouse, down the snowy street. “Let’s get breakfast, and we can talk about everything for real.”

Katara nods, sparing a last glance behind her towards the ship. She never meant to rely on Zuko to help her solve this problem, but she can’t deny she feels more reassured things will work out, especially knowing he’s likely to see Aang, too. 

Even though she can’t say for sure why it matters so much to Zuko, he knows her and Aang better than anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this update took me over a month - the draft ended up being a 12.3k monstrosity, so everyone say thank you kuchi for knowing where to cut scenes to make this a more manageable read for you. Enjoy, let us know what you think! - jay


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A troubled Aang sneaks onto Zuko's ship in search of counsel.

Aang flops back against the cot with a sigh. His suspicions were right: the ship _is_ heading for the Southern Water Tribe. He had cajoled the truth out of the captain just hours ago, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't already suspect it from the familiarity of the route.

He sits back and watches the hue of the sky change incrementally through the small window of the cabin. The room is stuffy and ostentatious: not much has changed in the way of design when it comes to the Fire Nation's navy. Or the Fire Nation in general. Still, the room bears the unmistakable signs of being lived in by its leader: his uncle's White Lotus tile acting as a paperweight on the desk, the crossed dao swords hanging on the wall – simply ornamental, to the knowledge of the crew – and the heaped stack of parchment and ink that signifies that Zuko was in the middle of some crucial negotiations when he left. Which he always is, so nothing out of the ordinary there.

What is out of the ordinary is that he'd come all the way to the South without so much as a note to Aang.

The crew had been surprised but not exactly disturbed to find Aang aboard. After all these years, there's a tacit understanding amongst the Fire Lord's immediate staff that the chance of an unexpected Avatar appearance is never too far away. This time, the crew had discovered his presence on the ship within hours when he'd leapt to catch an inexperienced sailor who was dangerously close to toppling off the deck during a particularly turbulent windstorm. He _could_ have done that with airbending instead of revealing himself, sure, but he wasn't exactly thinking in that moment.

Aang knows how to be inconspicuous, but not when he's upset.

He takes a deep breath in, fresh sea breeze cooling his lungs and his head. The air is considerably colder than it was yesterday; they're probably only a day away from the South Pole at most. The nights, too, seem to be starting earlier and lingering longer before giving way to an ever vanishing window of daylight. Aang lifts the heavy, woven silk of the blanket draped across the bottom half of the cot and worms his way under it. It's oddly dark in the cabin, considering how bright the sliver of low sunlight slanting through the tiny window is, and for once he's glad for the bizarre architectural choices of the Fire Nation. He couldn't bear it if it was sunny while he's moping.

He closes his eyes, running through everything he wants to say to Zuko. Every time he tries to get close to the crux of the matter in his head, the shame of running chases his thoughts away.

Aang had hoped that seeking some respite at the temples would help him clear his head before going back to see Katara. But catching the restoration works at the Southern Air Temple hadn't lifted his spirits like he thought it would, even after he had shaken off the eager-to-please acolytes and found some time to himself to meditate. The other air temples were much the same – especially the Western. He'd normally be happy to attend to the admiring acolytes trailing him around there, except that after a couple of days, they kept asking after Katara and he didn't know how to reply. Worse – some of the more fanatic ones took his evasive responses on the matter as a chance to take _their_ chances.

He had thought the tranquility of the temples would help. Meditating was usually the answer for him, and this situation shouldn't have been any different. He had to find peace within himself so he could see the situation clearly – that sort of thing.

But… it just didn't happen. Not when every time he closed his eyes, he only saw Katara's face, bewildered and dejected.

What he really needed was to see someone. To talk. Air his feelings out to a familiar face, even if it couldn't be Katara's – or Sokka's, for that matter. He sighs and pulls the blanket higher, tucking it under his chin.

His mood was bad enough by the time he left the Western Air Temple that he wasn't even thinking straight when he reached the Fire Nation. It turned out that Zuko was absent, away on an international visit, and Aang hadn't even stopped to ask _where_ he was before deciding that he would get on the ship sent to collect him. Given what he knew of the Fire Lord's busy schedule, Aang hadn't written to Zuko expecting him to just be free at Aang's whim, so the hitch in his plan didn't faze him. Besides, it would be good to give Appa some rest after those long journeys between the temples. They would take care of him at the palace, being a common guest much the same way that Aang was.

Now he's starting to wish he'd chosen to stay in that comfort, too. As the unmistakable air of the Southern Water Tribe begins to circle them – icy, cold drafts, and the smells of living; fire, musk and sealskin – he can't help but begin to feel apprehensive. What if he sees Katara? Dread and anticipation mingle in his chest at the thought. What can he say to _her_ , let alone Zuko? Part of him is still reluctant to make up with her, at least not yet. She _had_ been flippant, even if she hadn't meant to.

Aang shakes his head, heavy with frustration. No. He can't go to see Katara yet. He came to see Zuko, and that's what he's going to do. It's bound to give him some clarity, years of seeking each other's advice have proven that.

He ventures from Zuko's quarters to see if he can find someone he knows on deck and distract himself with some light conversation. The hour isn't late, but the darkness is already crowding in when he finds a group of crewmembers on shift; experience of the South Pole during winter tells him it will be a near-constant presence from now on. It was just another thing annoying him when he'd left, but now Aang is surprised to find that he's grateful for it, shielding him and his woes from scrutiny.

Something tugs at his thoughts. What is Zuko doing at the South Pole anyway? There are no conferences or diplomatic events this time of year as far as he's aware, and the Captain did say he was there on personal matters. Aang startles in realisation. What if Katara asked him to come? His face warms with shame at the thought of Zuko finding out that he'd just –

Just ran away from her.

A shrill horn blares, signalling their arrival and making Aang's shoulders leap up to his ears. It does little to ease the tight-wound coil of nervousness in the pit of his stomach. "What's the plan out here?" he asks when he spots the first mate, more Zuko's personal assistant than anything else on a small ship like this.

First Mate Yi squints at the surroundings and points towards a glint of icy land approaching, glowing against the vast darkness of sea and sky. As they near, Aang picks out a handful of freight ships docked in the harbour. They're increasing in number with each passing year. "We're on a very tight schedule. The Fire Lord must leave today if we're going to reach home in time for His Highness to meet with the education minister to finalise changes in the national curriculum."

Aang nods in reply and hums as nonchalantly as possible, hoping that Yi won't notice how he's trying to stay hidden behind the nearest column. He's sure Katara will come out to see Zuko off, even if it turns out that he isn't here visiting her specifically.

He hasn't even finished the thought when two shadowy figures appear out of the small rounded shack that serves as the waiting area of the boathouse. Aang makes a hurried, sloppy excuse about feeling cold to Yi and disappears below deck.

From his spot in the storeroom – he's become _very_ familiar with this ship's nooks and crannies in the last few days – he can see them clearly, through the gaps between piles of spare parts and sacks of dry food. His stomach twists when he gets a full glimpse of Katara's face. There are bags under her eyes, but she looks happy in the moment, her arm tucked in Zuko's, talking to him about something Aang wishes he could hear. They hug, and she holds Zuko so tightly that her gloved hands almost disappear into the fleeced neck of his coat. Aang can almost see his own desperate need for assurance reflected in her eager eyes, and for the first time since leaving, he feels well and truly like an utter jerk.

He keeps watching. The sight of them fills him with a hollow yearning.

If none of this was happening, they would be all together right now. Sharing smiles and stories with the cold air of the harbour misting their laughter, he and Katara indulging in the rare and magical sight of Zuko out here in the snowy landscape, Sokka making jibes at them all.

Instead, he's hiding in a stupid storeroom, wondering how he and Katara could fall out so bitterly.

Katara glances briefly at something in the palm of her hand before returning her attention to Zuko, patting down the front of his coat, and then they've parted, Katara trudging through the snow back into the boathouse. Just as well – Aang has seen enough. As much as he aches to catch another proper glimpse of Katara before she leaves, his heart can't handle it.

He closes his eyes, sliding down against the metal wall of the storeroom. He can hear the crewmembers sharply salute Zuko as he boards the ship. Yi makes an attempt at conversation – probably trying to alert him that the Avatar is on board – but Zuko dismisses him with undue snappiness. Aang could recognise that tone in his sleep. It's the same way Zuko got when they were living together in the thick of the United Republic negotiations; it means he's got a mountain of paperwork to get started on and not enough sleep to pretend to be happy about it. He decides he'll wait in Zuko's quarters to surprise him and hurries in that direction.

Zuko nearly jumps from shock when he walks into his room. Aang narrowly avoids the incoming blast of a fireball only by ducking with Avatar-level reflexes and spinning out of his way. Zuko's bleary eyes widen comically as he realises who he almost burned.

"Aang! What are you doing _here_?"

Aang lowers his hands from where they had been raised automatically in defence. It's been a long time since he received this treatment aboard a Fire Nation ship. He tells Zuko as much, and receives a bashful muttered apology in response, one that lifts his spirits already.

The ship lurches, indicating that the return journey is now fully underway, and Aang and Zuko both stumble a pace, too distracted to remember their sea legs.

Rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, Aang explains himself. "I've been on board since we left the capital, waiting for you. Well, uh. Mostly moping in your quarters."

Zuko raises his eyebrow but doesn't seem surprised. It dawns on Aang that the crew probably wouldn't let just anybody stay in the Fire Lord's quarters, and Zuko must have some specific policy regarding Aang.

"I wanted to see you," Aang says meaningfully, carefully sidestepping around the reasons for his impromptu visit.

Zuko crosses his arms. "So you thought you'd come stow away on the ship sent to collect me?"

"I went to the palace looking for you and you weren't there, so yeah," he says, skirting the edge of the room before sprawling onto the couch, allowing Zuko to access his belongings under his bed. "I've been all over the world these past couple of weeks."

"Yeah, I got your letter. I instructed Captain Iyori to stop by with a bunch of supplies, by the way. They should be there by now." Shedding his outerwear, Zuko says, "So? Did it help, travelling?"

"Not really." Aang doesn't bother trying to seem disaffected when he meets Zuko's eyes. He's just too tired.

The question of what _Zuko_ was doing here hangs unspoken between them. But Aang thinks he knows the answer from the knowing nod that Zuko belatedly gives him. It's hard to tell if Zuko's being avoidant, but his eyes keep shifting, considering Aang and the stack on his desk each in turn.

He stifles a yawn, but he doesn't go to touch his work. "Do you want to talk about it?" he says after a moment, rubbing at his eye, looking like it's the last thing on earth he's equipped to do right now.

The words are an open invitation for Aang to seek advice and affection, but he only takes up part of the offer, patting the couch beside him. When Zuko sits, he swings his legs up practically into Zuko's lap. Zuko raises his eyebrow at the blatant disregard for the Fire Lord's personal space, but he relaxes all the same.

Aang _did_ want to talk, before. But now he just feels exhausted down to his bones, especially looking at Zuko's similar state, even though it must still be before noon. Katara probably talked his ear off, too. Aang itches to ask about her, but he refrains. "You look like you've had a long night."

"Solstice festival," Zuko says through another yawn, and then winces, like he knows he shouldn't have mentioned it.

Aang's breath catches in his throat. "Right." The warm, closed-up feeling in his chest isn't exactly jealousy, but something like the same resentful melancholy of watching Katara and Zuko at the harbour. Even though the only one he can really resent is himself. "Don't you need to get busy, catching up on things?"

"I haven't started yet, so it doesn't count. I'll work later," Zuko says evenly. It's another invitation, but Aang just hums in acknowledgement.

Unfettered, Zuko lets down his topknot, and doesn't look particularly fazed when Aang begins to smooth out the stiff hair with his fingers. He's probably used to it. Aang can't ever keep his hands from his friends' hair – just ask Katara about the hundreds of times he's practised braiding with hers.

He tries to suppress a sigh. He doesn't want to keep feeling sorry for himself, but he doesn't want to put all this on Zuko right now, either.

"I'm all ears," Zuko reiterates, trying to open the conversation yet a third time. It's remarkable how composed he can keep his voice, even when his eyes are drifting shut with bliss as Aang scratches lightly at his scalp.

Aang shakes his head and gives into the smile pulling at his mouth. "Not if you're half-asleep. Does your Great Fieryness need a nap?" he asks in the same tone he reserves for when Appa's done something cute.

Zuko reaches out blindly to squish Aang's face in one hand and push him away. In return, Aang swats at him with a gentle gust, blowing all his hair over to one side. He's still struggling to gather it out of his face, to the accompaniment of Aang's laughter and occasional unhelpful flutters of air, when Yi arrives to alert them for the midday meal. Zuko's cheeks are faintly red when he finally manages to tie his hair back in an efficient bun that Aang can't unravel with his airbending, at least not without some dedication, and Aang shows mercy to spare him any embarrassment in front of the crew.

Yi addresses Aang only when Zuko is farther down the corridor. "It is good to see the Avatar in better spirits. And His Lordship, as well."

Lunch is a bit more formal than he's had when it was just him and the crew. Aang isn't that hungry anyways, especially after a week's fill of the ship's unappetising stores, but Zuko hasn't been subjected to that misfortune yet. After he's done, they take a brief walk around the deck beneath the omnipresent cloak of near-darkness, barely changed so far by their progress through the icy sea. The cold drives them back to Zuko's quarters, Aang leading the way. He has been staying there for days, after all. It's more like Zuko is stealing _his_ room, as far as this voyage is concerned.

"You're being childish," Zuko says seriously, when Aang relays this notion to him. "You know that while we're on this ship I have the authority to send you overboard, right?"

"Yeah, all that water sure looks scary. It's not like I'm a, y'know, master waterbender."

Zuko scowls, but he lets Aang flop down on his bed anyway, before he settles himself at his desk to confront the mountain of papers. He's easily distracted by Aang's attempts at chit-chat, which is how Aang knows it's already a lost cause. He thinks he owes it to his friend to save him from a fruitless struggle against fatigue.

"Hey, I thought you were gonna work later."

"It _is_ later."

"What about letting tomorrow be later?"

Zuko turns in the chair to look at him. "Are you… do you need something right now?"

Aang shrugs. "I just think it wouldn't hurt to call it an early night." He gestures vaguely to the narrow window. "Bedtime is basically anytime around here, right?"

Zuko snorts, hesitating with his quill in hand. After a moment, he sets it down and makes his way over. "If you make me sleep through dinner, I'm really going to throw you overboard."

They end up sharing the cot without fuss anyway, and Aang can tell Zuko was bluffing not only from the jibe but because of how quickly he acquiesces to Aang slipping under the covers next to him.

It's certainly not anything they haven't done before – and that goes for all his wartime friends, he supposes. But especially with Zuko, it's been an easy rhythm to fall into since the end of the war. Aang had always felt the need to mediate the many issues and political nitpicks involving the Fire Nation in the post-war landscape. They would finish so late trying to cram them into their travelling schedule that most nights they were asleep on each other before they could make it back to their separate rooms.

Then there were the times they would camp at the ends of the earth, for firebending crash courses, as Zuko called them, though between the years it became unclear who was teaching who what. They would stay up until dawn, and Aang would lie next to Zuko by firelight and tell him about his monk teachers, or his fear upon finding out he was charged to protect the world, or his Fire Nation friends from a hundred years ago. And then he would wait, with bated breath and kind patience, for Zuko to confide something about his past, too.

It's been a while since those trips, but he settles against Zuko all the same. There's a restlessness about Zuko that Aang ascribes to the inevitably scrambled sleeping schedule of anyone who visits the South Pole during a solstice, but he's tired enough to fall asleep quickly. Eventually, Aang does too, curled next to him with a passing thought of Katara in his mind.

*

The next day, Aang indulges in a morning gliding session over the expanse of ocean as Zuko catches up with some work. He wouldn't say he feels _better_ necessarily, but there's a sense of safety in knowing that Zuko knows _something_ about the situation and isn't treating Aang like an idiot over it, or a jerk, or acting like they should be solemn in respect for the unmitigable tragedy of his failing relationship. It makes the situation real, surmountable. It gives Aang space to think clearly as he soars through the empty sky, space that he didn't realise he was sorely lacking before.

Aang remembers as he finishes up that he'd picked up an extra glider from the Northern Air Temple. The restoration there is just beginning, and the Earth Kingdom refugees were in the process of vacating the residences within the temple when he left. He had been excited to catch up with Teo and the Mechanist, and as a farewell gift they had given him one of their newly modified monoplane gliders. These sleek, simple designs were now being used by some Air Acolytes too. Without the ability to airbend, it was difficult for them to stay aloft using the traditional air nomad gliders. Aang accepted the gift with grace, though of course he didn't have any use for it himself.

Until now. He _has_ to get Zuko to test it out before they part ways.

When he mentions it, it's Zuko who suggests that they try flying together that very day.

"Really?" Aang asks, surprised. Zuko's never been one to try risky things at sea.

"Really," Zuko says, nodding and glancing through the cabin window to watch the crew prepare for the afternoon shift on the main deck. "I could do with a distraction. All this reviewing of policies is driving me nuts."

It's the perfect day to try it out. The wind is cold but calm over the ocean, and the sun skirting the horizon tempers the icy currents so they don't have their usual bite. Aang shows Zuko how to attach the glider and runs him through the basic movements, how to hold his body in the optimal way for a smooth flight. Zuko's eager words don't match his demeanour, however: his limbs are too rigid in the run-up, and he visibly swallows when Aang gives him the enthusiastic go-ahead to leap off the higher deck. He has to laugh at the way Zuko glares at him after every encouragement he yells.

Aang knows that being in the air, on a clear day like this, must go against all of Zuko's instincts. His strengths lie in stealth and close quarters; in the open air, he must feel defenceless, even with no enemy to fight.

Aang's sight is trained on Zuko when he finally leaps off, his eyes squinted shut. After a few wobbly seconds of flight, Zuko lands shakily but successfully in front of Aang on the main deck. "That is _not_ ideal," he barks once he's done finding his balance. "Your air acolytes must really be strong believers if they're willing to go along with this. You have to trust the _wind_."

Aang laughs. "Come on. It's not that different from flying on Appa, is it?"

Zuko stares at him, unimpressed. "Appa is a creature that naturally flies. I'm not," he says flatly.

Nevertheless, he tries again at Aang's urging, until eventually, he starts to get the hang of it. Aang picks up his staff and joins Zuko after a few turns, taking a running start and hoisting himself onto the current with a well-aimed burst of air. He notices that Zuko flies much easier when Aang is next to him, which makes sense. After all, Aang can catch him if he needs to.

"You're a natural!" he yells over the wind. Zuko grins at him. The current sends his hair flying into his face, a gratifying sight after the usual neat formality Zuko adopts these days.

Aang whoops, looping above and below Zuko before returning to his side. The endless ocean dominating his view from all sides is a sight that never gets old, and he can't resist gliding wide circles around the ship, taking deep breaths of the sharp, cool air. Zuko gives him the side eye, though it's hard to make out with the dazzling, fleeting daylight behind him, enveloping him. Not for the first time, Aang is struck by how fitting Zuko looks beneath the sun's touch.

"Show off," Zuko mutters.

"Hey, don't be sour. You're doing well," Aang snickers, "you probably would have had an actual chance at capturing me if you could do this back when you were in exile."

Zuko scowls and opens his mouth to object. Aang continues, unperturbed, "Though your honour would have taken a hit for sure, _flying_ like an airbender."

"Careful. You _are_ on a Fire Nation ship. And it –" But at that moment, Zuko starts to wobble, with the wind slowing and stilling around them. He regains his balance, glowering as Aang laughs at his alarmed expression.

"What? I'm not on a ship," Aang says with as much obfuscating innocence as he can muster, keeping a careful eye on Zuko's balance. This really is more entertaining than it has any right to be. He looks askance at Zuko, unable to hide his satisfaction. "Besides, you can't even catch me when I'm waiting in your bed."

Zuko's glider jolts as he swerves to look at Aang, who instantly feels caught out by his expression. The sharpness of the movement jerks Zuko out of his equilibrium and he starts careening down towards the waves. Aang jumps into action. He swoops underneath Zuko, punching out a powerful gust of air that directs him back towards the ship as he falls. He can't do much more to steady him, his reflexes rendered stupid by the realisation of what he just said.

 _Why_ did he say that?

It turns out Aang had misread the distance to the deck. He dives after Zuko, but he's so rattled that he only catches up just in time, grabbing Zuko when he's hurtling far too close to the deck.

They stumble and land together in an ungraceful pile, laughing. Zuko's bony elbow jams into Aang's ribs, and it hurts a little, but Aang is just relieved that that's the extent of their injuries, besides maybe Zuko's pride. The tips of his ears are red, but he grabs Aang's arms and pins him with a shove and an aggressive smirk. "I've got you _now,_ " he says. "Try anything."

Breathless, Aang rolls his eyes. It's a little hard to take the threat seriously with a plank of broken bamboo sticking out from behind Zuko's back. Zuko's cocky smile slowly disappears from his face. He stares into Aang's eyes for a moment, breathing heavily, before he gets up and brushes down his clothes hastily. Aang rises with a nervous laugh. The afterimage of Zuko's eyes, their molten intensity, burns in his head.

Zuko has gone quiet, surveying the glowing skyline instead of looking at Aang.

"I think I'll stick to airborne beasts," he says, but the attempt at a playful edge Aang hears in his voice is shaky, unconvincing.

What on earth just happened?

"Whatever you say. I think you were pretty good." Aang observes the broken glider on the ground with a frown. "It's a shame about the glider, though. I bet it would have made a nice gift for Katara."

At this, Zuko does turn to look at him, his eyes immediately softening. Aang bites his tongue and gives him a dismayed smile before looking down at the ground. In the thrill of the flying session, he had almost forgotten. How stupid of him.

"Hey," Zuko says. "We're stopping in Hu Xin in a couple of days since it's on the way home and we need to re-stock. Could you give me a helping hand with greeting some officials?"

Aang nods, letting Zuko leave him with a clumsy squeeze of his shoulder. Hu Xin Province is a former Fire Nation colony, centred around a port city in the southwestern Earth continent, one of the colonies that were new enough to be dissolved after the war. Needless to say, relations between them and Zuko's court are still shaky. An escort by the Avatar would go a long way.

He turns to watch the waves after Zuko is gone. They glitter in the low, golden sunlight, and Aang wonders if the sun has already made its brief appearance and exit at the South Pole. The ocean air is warmer now, bringing with it an odd taste of loss on the back of his tongue. He wonders what Katara did during the winter solstice, if she had fun at the Glacier Spirits Festival with Sokka and her dad. He can't remember the last time he didn't spend it with them. And he missed out on sharing it with Zuko this year, too.

Hu Xin is the kind of place that must be temperate all year around. He appreciates the stop – appreciates Zuko's attempt at giving Aang a distraction.

He doesn't recognise until he's moments from sleep later that night that the glider lesson, too, had been orchestrated to serve the same purpose.

*

Hu Xin is as much of a breeze as it can be, given the circumstances. It rains steadily but unobtrusively for the entire day they spend there, starting with a meeting with the governor and his councilmen in the morning. In the afternoon, Aang and Zuko decide on an early meal in a teahouse, a welcome break from the ship's store of ale and lean meats.

They still haven't properly talked about the reason Aang is here in the first place. But it's true hanging out with Zuko has done a lot to clear his head. Spending time with him is revitalising in itself. It reminds him of the most important thing at stake in this whole mess, the only thing that matters: his future with someone he loves more than anything in the world.

Inside the teahouse, Aang leans forward on his elbows over the bar and wraps a few noodles carefully around his chopsticks. The rain patters a thin beat on the tin roof above. No other patrons are here, out in the rain, too late for lunchtime and too early for dinner.

"What are you working on when you get back?" Aang asks, belatedly. "Yi said you were on a tight schedule."

Zuko takes a long sip of tea and sits back. "Signing off on education policy, mostly. We want to pass all the reforms to the national curriculum by the end of this year. The first kids born after the War are going to school soon, can you believe it?"

Aang shakes his head mutely. It feels like no time has passed since. And yet, the world is so different.

"Speaking of – I want you to look at something for me, actually. To review the part on the Air Nomads and the genocide in the history curriculum. It would mean a lot to get your approval on this."

"Of course, I'll take a look," Aang says. He looks across their meal and into Zuko's eyes. "It would mean a lot to me, too."

The mood is sombered instantly, and Aang wonders if it was on purpose.

Zuko picks up his chopsticks again and clears his throat. "We had to redo everything, as you can probably guess. But there's finally a coherent curriculum, not just scraps and rumours. The next thing is to train the teachers. This is really important to me, Aang. Not just making sure that my people know the truth about the Hundred Year War, but the importance of every culture. Your culture."

Aang feels strangely aglow, until he remembers the argument that's lingered in the back of his mind for weeks. "At least it's important to someone," he mumbles unthinkingly.

Zuko actually looks surprised, noodles slipping down from his chopsticks. " _Aang,_ " he implores.

Aang gazes beyond Zuko's head at the grey sky through the window and then drags a hand over his face, shoulders drooping. "Yeah. That was out of line, I know." He runs his tongue over his teeth. "But I get to be upset about this, right?"

Zuko's eyes are wide and full of difficult sympathy. He leans forward and his shoulders round towards Aang like he's preparing to share a secret. He says, his tone even, "You do. Of course you do. But what are you _really_ doing here, Aang?"

Aang keeps his eyes on the table, giving a weak shrug. "I just wanted to talk to someone." He feels small all of a sudden. "I thought at first that getting away would help. Find my own peace and all…"

Zuko looks like he's trying to carefully maintain neutrality in his expression. "It seems to me like you're just –"

"Moping?"

"Yeah." His lips press together in an awkward line. Aang feels even worse for putting Zuko of all people in this position; the last person who would want to deal with a strained conversation about relationship woes. Except maybe Toph.

"What did Katara say to you?" Aang's voice is quiet, but he tries not to sound too hesitant. Zuko is _good_ ; he gets them both. He'll be fair about it, Aang tells himself.

"Aang, come on," Zuko says, exasperation finally inching into his voice. He sets down his chopsticks. When Aang looks at him, his face is blank, eyes blinking in a helpless way.

Right. He shouldn't have asked about something that Zuko would obviously want to keep in confidence.

"She's upset, too. She misses you a lot."

Aang feels himself sink further into his seat. He picks up the chopsticks from his plate and starts fiddling with them. "I miss her."

Zuko coughs in a manner far too suspect.

"What?"

Again, he looks like he's trying hard to contain his tone. "You're the one who left, Aang."

Aang gives a tight nod, looking up only when he feels Zuko's hand on his wrist.

"And I get it. It must be –" Zuko averts his eyes towards the floor, "– it must be really frustrating sometimes, the way they live in the South. To not be able to be alone with your girlfriend –"

Aang buries his face in his elbow on the table. He can feel his ears burn, his skin tingling where Zuko clasps it. They are _not_ having this conversation.

Zuko persists, with an effort so visible in his eyes that it makes Aang's heart ache for him, for the way he's exerting his ability to counsel for Aang's sake. "Look at it from her point of view… she's been around the Water Tribe, around her community, her whole life. It has to be strange, the idea of dropping that and moving so far away."

Aang nods minutely. He's figuring that out, he thinks.

Zuko lets his arm go, picking up his teacup again in an overemphasised motion. "I understand you need your freedom. Have you thought about splitting your time? Between the South and somewhere else more private?"

"That's… that's not a bad idea." Aang sits up, "I know the temples aren't really a realistic option right now, but we could have our own place somewhere..."

A flicker of remembrance passes on Zuko's face. He leans forward, "You could live in Republic City."

"You think so?"

Zuko smiles. "Isn't that why we went to all the trouble of setting up the United Republic in the first place? For people of all nations to be together?"

Aang finds himself smiling despite his mood. "Save the speech for the crowds, Fire Lord."

"Shut up," Zuko says, but his eyes are still kind when he's done with rolling them for Aang's benefit. Aang laughs. Zuko could never take a proper compliment. As they sit in comfortable silence, finishing their food, Aang's mind is already whirring over what he'll say to Katara.

Eventually, Zuko emerges from his own silence with an almost rueful smile. There's a question on Aang's lips, but before he can even figure out what he wants to ask, Zuko says, to-the-point, "You're going to figure it out, I promise. You guys are the best team I know. There's just no other way."

Aang presses his leg against Zuko's under the table in appreciation. It's a heavy statement coming from Zuko, who in other circumstances, he might consider his best teammate. Between him and Katara, and the rest of their friends, Aang thinks he might have the best teammates in the world. If Zuko is like the sun, blistering, blunt, then Katara, in contrast, is clear and giving like Yue's moonlight. He knows he needs them both to keep him in check, and that's never felt truer than in this moment.

Republic City. The more he mulls it over, the more it seems like a feasible option. But would it be right, to live somewhere so new, so modern, so lacking even a hint of his ancestry?

When he mentions this to Zuko, he pauses for thought. "It's right in the middle of the world, Aang. Even if it's not perfect, you would be so much closer to the Northern and Western air temples. And you'd be closer to me."

Aang glances up with a smile, strangely winded. "I guess you're right."

He thinks of the children chasing each other around the corners and crevices of the Southern Air Temple. "But still, I… I always thought my home would be at an air temple," he finishes quietly. "How would Monk Gyatso feel if he knew the only airbender left in the world wasn't there to uphold our lifestyle?"

Zuko rubs at his forehead. "You could just – couldn't you just, I don't know, build a temple? Somewhere more feasible? It's what we did for the Fire Sages back at home on Crescent Island. They lost a lot in the last hundred years, too."

Aang's eyes widen. "You mean, build a temple in Republic City?" Zuko's pragmatism never fails to awe him – though usually not in a good way, so this is a welcome change.

"Why not?"

"I didn't think –"

"Let's go there," Zuko says.

" _Now?_ Don't you have important meetings to get back to?"

"Just for an afternoon. It's practically on the way." His gaze is insistent and Aang feels compelled to agree, though he can't figure out why. Zuko isn't really asking.

"Yeah," he says with a grin, "sure."

When they step outside, it's gotten dark already, the moonlight misting through the humid sky to cast Zuko in front of him in a gentle glow. He really does look wise. He's grown into the sharp lines of his face since Aang last saw him, and he holds himself with more ease than ever. Aang bets the girls in the South Pole noticed that.

"What did you do while you were in the South?" he asks.

Zuko pauses to let him catch up. "I did go to see Katara. She wrote to me, too."

Aang nods, trying not to let him see how naked that makes him feel. They had probably talked about him a lot. "I understand." Trying to ignore the heaviness in his chest, he adds, "I bet the papers loved that."

"Don't get me started."

Aang gives a humourless smile. "Everyone needs something to root for."

Zuko scoffs loudly, his cheeks reddening instantly. "I really don't know what they're trying to grasp at. It's a terrible idea."

"Not true." Aang reaches over and taps him lightly on the temple, "You've got a lot of good sense about relationships in there. I know you would be an amazing boyfriend."

Zuko sputters, looking bewildered at Aang, who claps a hand over his mouth, the unspoken rest of the sentence hanging between them.

For… Katara? For _who?_

The absurdity of the notion makes Aang laugh, too loud, and Zuko follows him shortly. Oddly, the idea doesn't stir up anything bad in him. Zuko's too close to actually be a threat, no matter the rumours people insist on stirring up. But not _too_ close, of course – not like those _other_ rumours. Nothing like that. Nothing he wants to think too hard about.

Zuko stumbles over his words, "I know that you're having issues, Aang, but you shouldn't be _so_ pessimistic about your relationship."

"Oh, now you think you're hot?"

"I am the head of the Fire Nation, in case you hadn't noticed," Zuko says solemnly, but his cheeks are flushed in a way that makes something flutter in Aang's stomach.

As they make their way back to the docked ship, Zuko stops him on the path with a steady hand on his shoulder. The night is dark, Zuko's eyes piercing as they catch the light of the street lamps. "You're going to be okay, Aang," he says. "I need you both to be okay."

Aang grips Zuko's hand hard when he offers it. He hopes to every Spirit in existence that Zuko's right. He has to be right. He musters up a small smile. "What are you, in love with us?"

Zuko chuckles. "Everyone needs something to root for," he says, repeating Aang's words from earlier. But it's not mocking. "Don't you have something you root for?"

"Sure. I'm always rooting for you," Aang says with all sincerity.

*

Republic City is as busy as it's always been. Every time Aang comes here, it seems like an entire new neighbourhood pops up that wasn't there before. Aang doesn't know what excuse they're going to give the crew – they got all the fuel they need in Hu Xin. In the end he doesn't have to worry, though, because Zuko sends a messenger hawk ahead to the Council and finds out that Toph is there, making a rare appearance in the City. An unlikely chance to see an old friend seems much more sensible than just halting the Fire Lord's schedule so Aang can be a little less morose about his love life.

Toph's metalbending academy has come far in the last few years, with many earthbender students proficient enough in metalbending now to actually put it to use as engineers and builders all around the Earth Kingdom. It turns out Sifu Toph is a great teacher – though Aang definitely doesn't envy those students their long, merciless classes.

When they meet Toph outside City Hall she greets them with friendly (but _hard_ ) punches. She explains she's thinking of expanding the metalbending academy into Republic City proper – setting up an even bigger one here for the earthbenders rapidly filtering into the growing city each day.

As they leave the centre to walk a still-unfinished pavement down to Yue Bay, she seems happy to be led, and Zuko matches her step, and Aang, leading them, tries not to dwell on how his first instinct is to head back to the water.

"People who come to Republic City are the exact type that wanna learn new things," Toph says, hands in her pockets. "Like metalbending! And to be honest with you, I miss being in the City. The academy's pretty close by, sure, but not close enough for me to hop into town and help out whenever they need me. Or whenever I need a nice, fancy meal."

"Not to mention how useful it'll be to have more metalbenders around," Zuko adds.

"What are you guys doing here, anyway?"

"Oh," Aang says, hesitating. "We're not staying here now, I mean, we're not here for business." At Toph's questioning frown, he hastens to add, "This is just a detour, from escorting Zuko to the Fire Nation. Katara and I are – we're taking a break."

To Aang's relief, Toph makes a small sound of understanding, like she's willing to take that at face value. "So you're here avoiding her," she says swiftly, nodding to herself.

Aang swallows. None of them need that one affirmed with a reply.

"And you're just along for the ride, Sparky?" Toph kicks a stone ahead of her before dragging it back with earthbending and repeating the motion as they come towards the widening strip of beach that curves around Yue Bay.

"I'm on my way back from the South. I was – uh, bringing shipments. Resources."

Aang can't tell why Zuko seems so reluctant to tell her the real reason he was there, scratching his collar and looking away. "I see," Toph says, and he's pretty sure she knows what Zuko isn't saying regardless.

They stop by a shack on the side of the road to get roasted peanuts, poured into cups of curved parchment, before continuing.

Toph throws a handful of peanuts into her mouth, crunching loudly. "I'm sure you and Katara will work it out," she says briskly. "You guys have each other in the meantime. Enjoy being an eligible bachelor in our modern town, Twinkle Toes. Might be your only chance to get acquainted with royalty the way you want," she says, pulling at Zuko's sleeve.

Zuko and Aang look at each other in alarm; Aang can't help notice how flustered Zuko looks, shoulders immediately hunched like he's sixteen again.

Toph smirks, clearly aware of the effect of her words. She snorts, offhandedly. "Or the way _Five Nations Weekly_ wants."

Zuko sounds choked. "What do you mean –"

Aang sputters, "Why would you think –"

Before they can finish, a young woman with a long, swishing braid and the characteristic wrist guards of a Republic City construction worker bounds up to them from the direction of the port. "Sifu Toph!" she says, and bends in a deep bow, which satisfies Toph immensely.

"Yuke, I knew you'd be here," Toph greets her, surprisingly pleasant in her tone.

Aang notices the excited glint in her golden eyes. "How are you? How long have you been in town? Do you want to come and see what we're doing at the port? Our techniques have been a huge help."

"My former student," Toph introduces her with pride. She looks about Zuko's age. "Yuke, meet some old friends of mine, Av– "

"I know," Yuke says, her eyes bulging, scrambling into another bow. "Nice to – pleased to –"

Aang and Zuko laugh off her starstruck expression and introduce themselves; Aang grins at Zuko when he rises from his own deep bow. While Yuke gawks and Toph cackles, the two of them share a nostalgic look – this kind of meeting and greeting used to happen on the daily back when they lived in the yet-unnamed Republic City together. Aang doesn't need to say the words, his voice neat and educational, or jab an elbow in his side for Zuko to understand and roll his eyes in return. _You see, in the United Republic, he's just a citizen like any other._

Yuke hooks her arm through Toph's and leads her to the wooden walkways that lead towards the pier. "I'll be back soon!" Toph yells back at Aang and Zuko. "We'll get dinner!"

All the better, Aang thinks as Zuko yells back in agreement, since Toph probably wouldn't want to spend so much time down on the sandy shores of the bay. He and Zuko amble down to the very edge of the water. It's too late in the afternoon for the air to be truly warm anymore, especially as the ocean breeze hits his robes, but Aang feels satisfied as he closes his eyes and listens to the waves lapping the shore, the sounds of people talking and the drumbeat of metal clanging far away in the industrial quarter.

"So why are we here?" he asks, sitting down on the dry, soft sand, grey in the fading light. Zuko follows him.

"I just thought it would help you think if you actually came here. It always works for me if I'm deliberating on something."

"Hm." Aang slouches forward and crosses his arms loosely over his knees. "I just… I can't really see an air temple in the middle of all this, Zuko. Temples are supposed to be peaceful. I love this city but… it's not exactly a haven of tranquility."

"The temples in the Fire Nation are all on their own little islands," Zuko says. "But you could also build something up into the mountains." He gazes up and around at the two distant peaks that cradle the collection of once-small towns that make up Republic City between them. Aang watches his eyes all the way, until they turn on him. He looks down, digging his foot into the sand. Zuko rests a careful hand on his shoulder.

Zuko really is trying. There's something touching about seeing him go this far for Aang, but equally, something about it gnaws painfully at him, and he doesn't know why. And if he _does_ know, it doesn't matter. Those are old feelings he can't afford to dig up right now.

He has the urge to ask Zuko about his own love life, but that would probably sound like he's deflecting.

Finally, he sighs. "I don't think Katara would go for that. It's still pretty far out from the rest of the town."

"You don't know until you ask her."

"I guess not," Aang mumbles, trying to remain hopeful. "What about those islands?" he says, squinting towards the bay. "No one lives there, right?"

"I don't think so. None of the neighbouring districts we spoke to claimed ownership as far as I remember."

Aang stands to get a better look. There are two jagged blocks of land poking out of the stormy water in the near distance. The larger of the two is pretty flat, from what he can tell, though he can't make out more than sloping cliff faces and mottled vegetation from this angle. He turns around to ask Zuko if they can check it out, and the smile on Zuko's face tells him all he needs to know.

"Since you crashed the glider on your first go, you're just gonna have to hold on to me this time."

"You're seriously suggesting –" Zuko starts, alarmed, before crossing his arms. "No, Aang. Don't even think about it."

Aang attempts a pout, laughing. He wasn't being serious, really, but it was worth it for the look on Zuko's face. Hanging on to an airbender is a perfectly okay method of flying if you're a kid, but Aang doesn't trust himself not to topple someone of Zuko's build into the sea. Even if they _are_ practically the same height now. "You really think I'd let you fall?"

"It's not _you_ I doubt, Aang. It's gravity. I'll catch up to you by boat."

Aang grins. "Suit yourself," he says, shrugging and opening his glider.

He reaches the island in practically no time. When Zuko arrives, Aang has already flown the perimeter of the land a couple times over. With each turn, the possibility makes his heart soar. It's definitely big enough for a family-sized temple, but probably not much more. The terrain is flat enough that non-airbenders would be comfortable, though unfortunately Zuko can't reach the highest plateaus until they build some kind of staircase. Aang enthusiastically outlines where he thinks the residential buildings could go, and rock pools and gardens where kids could play, and even the possibility of building an inner sanctuary at the northernmost peak of the island, for any relics that Aang might want to restore from his childhood home.

"This is amazing! This place has everything." He kicks himself up with airbending onto a rocky ledge, beaming down at Zuko. "It's isolated, like an air temple should be. But we wouldn't be _alone_ , it's still right on the doorstep of the city. In fact, we could easily incorporate it officially."

Zuko laughs, pleased, and leans against the stony wall. "Yeah, Aang, don't get ahead of yourself."

"You're right, you're right." Aang leaps down again to join him. The cool face of the rock and the excitement bubbling in his stomach are enough to make him wrap his arm around Zuko, leaning his head contentedly against his shoulder. "Do you think she'll go for it? I know it's so far from the South, even if Sokka does spend half his time here."

"I think she's more willing to compromise than you think," Zuko murmurs into the evening air. "I know, actually."

Aang believes him. He finally has all the pieces he needs. All that's left is to take the ray of hope Zuko's given him back home to Katara.

*

The last leg of their journey passes by quickly, and for the first time since it began, Aang feels torn two ways. He's reluctant for his precious time with Zuko to end, but eager to get back to where he belongs, now that the future isn't as uncertain as he thought it was. It must be obvious to Zuko too, from the way Aang throws himself into helping the crew, using the full capacity of his elemental prowess to speed the ship along.

They still spend much of every day together – they never found any real alternative to sharing Zuko's quarters, and Aang is okay with that, as long as he resists thinking of the implications Toph made.

When he isn't driving wind into the sails, he perches on the desk to advise while Zuko signs correspondences. The stack of paperwork gradually dwindles. When Zuko wants a break from it, Aang is all too happy to spar with him. He'll miss the heat of their traded flames and especially Zuko's eyes when Aang manages to get the best of him.

On the final morning, they watch the sunrise and drink tea on the deck. Aang's decided not to use his bending to hurry them onwards today, with the caldera already in sight. He might as well soak in this last bit of warmth while he can. Leaning with his arms crossed on the railing, Zuko looks at him sidelong.

"What?" Aang asks, self-consciously raising his cup to his mouth for a sip.

Zuko shakes his head with a small smile. "What do you mean, _what_. I know you can reach the palace from here by glider. What are you waiting for, Aang?"

"Oh. Yeah, you're right. I guess I'm still a little nervous to actually go back." Aang exhales, turning to meet Zuko's steady gaze. "And I also need to thank you, for everything."

Zuko snorts. "I barely did anything. Just helped you see what you already knew."

Aang clasps his wrist earnestly. "No, it was more than that."

Zuko glances down at their hands, then away, and coughs as he downs the rest of his tea too fast. "Okay, Avatar, we can just add it to your tab. Next to me helping you save the world."

Aang laughs at that. A troubled furrow to Zuko's brow that makes him stop short, and Zuko scans around them, presumably for any watchful eyes. Before he can ask what's wrong, Zuko quickly pecks his cheek and steps away, red in the face.

"Katara wanted me to pass that on. Now go give it back to her."

Aang can't find anything to say, so he nods and stamps his staff against the deck, snapping out the fans of his glider. With a last, heartfelt look of appreciation for Zuko, he takes off.

He makes only a brief stop at the palace for Appa, who's thrilled to be reunited with him, before turning to cross the seas once more. They head straight for the South Pole, flying fast to bludgeon through the apprehension that threatens to overtake Aang as he nears his destination. After a full day of travel, he spots the familiar landmass, an expansive sheen of white in the dark ocean. The glittering domed heads of igloos signal where he should land.

The sound of Appa's gruff grunts alerts someone inside as Aang settles him down next to the tall, spacious ice hut that serves as Katara's family's reception room. It turns out to be Sokka, squinting in the faint early morning light. "Aang?" he says. Then he stands up straight and crosses his arms.

Aang doesn't wilt. "Hi, Sokka," he says. "Where's Katara?"

Sokka narrows his eyes and attempts a sneer; then the effect is promptly broken as he stifles a yawn. He must have been sleeping. Aang has no idea what time it is. "She's out on the fishing lake. Momo's with me."

"Thanks," Aang says breathlessly, and before Sokka can get another word in – Aang's pretty sure he'll have to apologize to him, too, later – he opens up his glider and jets into the air as quickly as he landed.

"Aang! Wait!" Sokka yells up at him. "Where the hell have you been?"

Aang looks down at his receding frame. "With Zuko," he yells, as if that explains everything. He catches Sokka's look of utter bewilderment before he soars away.

The chill wind cuts harshly against Aang's face as he flies; even with the ability to regulate his own temperature, it always takes a while to get used to the South coming back from the tropics. But he's glad for it. The more awake and alert and ready he is to meet Katara, the better. He spots her lone figure at the edge of the village.

Katara is alone, thankfully. She's perched on a boat moored at the edge of the icy lake, with various circles of dark water where she's opened it up with her bending and cast her line. A pail already full of glistening fish sits at her feet. Aang doesn't bother with any subtleties, landing right in front of her.

She startles, but recovers and rises quickly. "Aang?" Surprise and sorrow mingle in the depths of her eyes. Aang wants to run right into her arms.

"Hi," he says, truly out of breath by now.

Katara senses that easily, frowning questioningly as she walks towards him. "Did you fly here on –"

"I'm sorry," Aang blurts. "I'm really sorry that I left, instead of just talking to you. I'm sorry I didn't listen when you were trying to tell me what's important to you."

Katara's eyes turn glossy, shoulders drooping with relief. "Me too. Oh, me too, Aang." She's nodding hard. "I'm so sorry I said those things, I should never have – I know I hurt you, even though that's the last thing I ever wanted to do, and it wasn't right." Her mouth turns into a pout, though she clearly tries to stop it. Aang's heart aches.

He doesn't know which one of them runs first, but in a matter of seconds she's pressed into him. She clasps his face between two mittened hands. Aang hugs her hard enough to lift her off her feet.

She wipes at her eyes, schooling her expression into something steady. Her lip wobbles. "We have to talk – can we just talk?"

"Yeah," Aang says with an uneven smile. "We will. We'll talk until we have a solution. It doesn't matter what it takes as long as –" Katara kisses him, salty tears and sweet breath. Aang leans into her, and they don't part for a long time.

"As long as we're together," she finishes for him eventually, her cold nose pressed against his neck. "Where did you go?"

"Fire Nation – well, no, not really. It's a long story."

She extracts herself from the embrace to look up at him, a knowing glint in her eyes. "We might have had a similar experience, then."

Aang laughs, a little delirious, unsure whether it's because of Katara's presence or because of the sliver of strange meaning in her words. "It's definitely possible."

Katara looks down at their feet. "It was everything I needed." She squeezes Aang's hands in hers. It feels like an anchor after being unmoored for weeks.

But she doesn't elaborate further, and neither does he. They have a more important conversation to attend to right now. He kisses her flushed cheeks and pushes down the burning curiosity that flares up inside him, turning somersaults in his stomach. It's definitely a conversation for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while I wrote the meat of this chapter pls thank jay for padding it out here and there into a full meal!


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